


Anomalies

by Soul_Chicken_Soup, TheSoundScreecher_ailingAmnemonic



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 52,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25570723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soul_Chicken_Soup/pseuds/Soul_Chicken_Soup, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSoundScreecher_ailingAmnemonic/pseuds/TheSoundScreecher_ailingAmnemonic
Summary: When you look through the pages of history and the plays of the present, could you tell me how people would react when someone is… different from what they know or been told?The audience members’ reactions vary from crowd to crowd, performer to performer, scholar to scholar.Some react with fear, destroying them or ostracizing them. Some act with aggression and anger, belittling them to make themselves feel important, but there are those who are accepting, trying to understand them for who they are. The reverse of that also wants to understand, but for a darker reason than the former, more pleasant people. Such a black motivation to this grey society, isn’t it?But really, enough with the metaphors and discrepancies, because clearly, that’s not what you’re here for, is it?You’re here for a story. A mundanely predictable, yet, admirable motivation.If that is truly what you want, then let me tell you a story of two sides of the same coin, two perspectives of the same society. A tale of friendship and romance, of loss and gain, of terror and mystery, and of joy and tragedy, because no good time of peace can properly exist without the omen of destruction.
Relationships: B-52/Brownie (Food Fantasy), Blue Cheese/Opera Cake/Soufflé (Food Fantasy), Brownie & Chocolate (Food Fantasy), Brownie & Eclair (Food Fantasy), Brownie & Napoleon Cake (Food Fantasy), Brownie & Original Food Soul Character(s), Champagne (Food Fantasy)/Original Character(s), Chocolate/Coffee (Food Fantasy), Dragon and Phoenix/Realgar Wine (Food Fantasy), Dragonwell Tea/Zitui Bun (Food Fantasy), Eclair & Original Food Soul Character(s), Longjing Tea/Zitui Bun (Food Fantasy), Miso Soup/Sanma Shioyaki/Tempura (Food Fantasy), Napoleon Cake & Eclair (Food Fantasy), Napoleon Cake & Original Food Soul Character(s), Original Character(s) & Original Character(s), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Pastel de Nata & Original Food Soul Character(s), Peking Duck (Food Fantasy)/Original Character(s), Pizza & Spaghetti (Food Fantasy)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 44





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story, as you can tell, is a human AU of Food Fantasy, and therefore everyone has a human name!  
> So I'll make sure to remind you all of the characters' names uwu
> 
> Additionally, I must thank my senpai, Soul_Chicken_Soup, for helping me both write and edit this story! If it weren't for them, then this story might have never happened, so let us all give them a hand uwu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeeeyyyyy!  
> Updated the prologue! :DD  
> Now it's actually nice

When you look through the pages of history and the plays of the present, could you tell me how people would react when someone is… different from what they know or been told? 

The audience members’ reactions vary from crowd to crowd, performer to performer, scholar to scholar. 

Some react with fear, destroying them or ostracizing them. Some act with aggression and anger, belittling them to make themselves feel important, but there are those who are accepting, trying to understand them for who they are. The reverse of that also wants to understand, but for a darker reason than the former, more pleasant people. Such a black motivation to this grey society, isn’t it?

But really, enough with the metaphors and discrepancies, because clearly, that’s not what you’re here for, is it?

You’re here for a story. A mundanely predictable, yet, admirable motivation.

If that is truly what you want, then let me tell you a story of two sides of the same coin, two perspectives of the same society. A tale of friendship and romance, of loss and gain, of terror and mystery, and of joy and tragedy, because no good time of peace can properly exist without the omen of destruction. 

You’re already familiar with human nature’s grey morality, their wants and needs, their hopes and dreams, so let me shed some light on the anomalies of this normalcy.

Among the “normal” folk are those who are “not normal.” People with incredible powers, all throughout the world in populations larger than you can imagine. You might even be standing next to one of these extraordinary people and not realize it unless they make a slip or come out on their own.

These beings come in all sorts of backgrounds and sizes, hiding among the public as “normal” people. Living in either indifference or fear of being discovered.

But it can be promised that even the strangest of anomalies, as they are now called, are all “human” deep down.

This can be proven with the first story I tell, of a siren’s lament, the loneliness that built their castle’s walls, the fear of the damnation their power holds, and the wavering devotion to one of his own blood.

Such sad circumstances for someone so young, but despite the fear and isolation one may live in, close bonds and comradery can still be found.


	2. Lonely Siren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Let me tell you a story of a siren’s lament, the loneliness that built their castle’s walls, the fear of the damnation their power holds, and the wavering devotion to one of his own blood.  
> "Such sad circumstances for someone so young, but despite the fear and isolation one may live in, close bonds and comradery can still be found."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NAMES IN ORDER OF INTRODUCTION  
> Brownie: Brook Machias Joseph  
> Chocolate: Celestino Joseph  
> Napoleon Cake: Napoleon Mille Feuille  
> Sugar Cookie (OC): Sandra Ecora  
> Eclair: Elois Jacob Carême

‘ _"_ _Are they friendship secrets, light-hearted secrets…?” The Jetsetter almost frowned, realizing... “Dark secrets?”_

_The woman didn’t answer directly, muttering two words._

_“He’s coming…”_

_The way the woman talked reminded Vincent of how he tried describing what he saw, back when he was strapped in that electric chair, back when he told the Savant and his companions of the butler in league with the evil. She spoke of something dark, of someone coming._

_Surely that someone coming couldn’t be good. Chills ran up Vincent’s spine upon piecing this together’_ \--?!

  
  


The youth’s attention was promptly pulled away from his book when a rhythmic knock came from the other side of his bedroom door.

“Brook? May I come in?” he heard his older brother’s muffled voice ask from beyond the door.

“Of course,” Brook replied, delicately placing his bookmark in between the pages before placing the book onto his bedside table, and as if on cue, his brother entered the room.

Celestino Joseph, Brook’s older brother, was a charming young man with silky black hair and smooth, dark skin. His eyes were a shade of blue so brilliant that they rivalled the vast blue sky, and despite the fact he seemed concerned right now, it almost looked as if his expression might break into a smile at any moment.

The older Joseph brother was dressed in a white sweater with a velvet red winter coat over it.

_‘Is he going somewhere?’_ Brook wondered.

“I’m heading out to my modelling gig,” Celestino informed.

Brook thought as much as he looked at his phone.

8:45 PM.

“This late?” he asked.

“Yeah…” the older brother replied sheepishly, “They called me last second since it’s snowing right now and apparently, snow and nighttime make ‘The perfect shot’, or something,” he joked with a dry laugh. Brook nodded,

“I understand, Cel, don’t worry about it,” he reassured, “Would you like me to make dinner while you’re gone?”

“There’s no need, I might not come home for a few hours, so there’s no need to stay up so late.” He continued with a sigh, “I just wanted to remind you--”

“--To not stay up past midnight, make sure all the doors and windows are locked, the curtains are drawn, and to absolutely, under _no_ circumstances, leave the house until you get home.” Brook had relayed the sentence he’s come to know by heart with an amused smile.

“Unless there are robbers or a fire,” Celestino added on. The little brother chuckled.

“Of course, of course, dear brother. I’ll stay safe. Now, don’t you have a modelling gig to head to?” This time, it was Celestino’s turn to laugh.

“Right, right, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he said with a warm smile.

“Bye!” Brooke replied just before Cel closed the door. Brook sighed as he picked his book back up,

_‘Another one of those nights, it seems,’_ he thought idly as he flipped through the pages. With Christmas quickly approaching, his brother seemed to get busier and busier. He wondered if he’ll be celebrating Christmas alone this year. Not that he ever minded, of course, his brother always made it up to him afterwards, and in Brook’s mind, that was enough.

He never minded all those days and nights he’s spent on his own. He didn’t have to go outside and meet people to enjoy life, he had his books, the internet, the kitchen, and the rest of the house to keep him occupied.

He didn’t need to go outside or people to keep himself company… Or so he thought.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his phone buzz on his bed. He sighed. No matter how much he tried to convince himself, he never could resist.

He picked the phone up and unlocked it. A message of red words was there to greet him

**NF:** Pssssst  
**NF:** Brook :3

The ravenette proceeded to type his response in.

** BJ:  ** What is it, Napoleon?

**NF:** Is Cel hooooooooooome~?

** BJ:  ** Let me guess  
**BJ:** You want to hang out?

**NF:** Correction, we *all* wanna hang out!

Brook couldn’t help but chuckle a little. Despite his morals and his brother’s wishes, he snuck out once and that was because of an “accident” that led him to meet a bunch of idiots he could call his friends. Not that he resented them for all the times they bugged him, as a matter of fact, he couldn’t be happier to have met someone who could understand his predicament and vice versa. He replied.

** BJ:  ** Oh god no  
**BJ:** Napoleon, I swear to god

**NF:** Look outside!

Despite his reaction through text, Brook _wasn’t_ surprised this would’ve happened. In fact, he would have been _worried_ if this hadn’t happened.

Even before he looked out his window, he could already imagine the scene he’d find outside.

When your brother is a famous model, you’re bound to be expected to live in a large house either in isolation, or closed off by tall walls. Brook’s house was the latter and his bedroom window just so happened to be about a few feet away from the top of the wall where a tall, snow-covered tree stood between the two, and sitting atop the stone wall was three of Brook’s best, and only friends.

The first one to catch his eyes was the one grinning at him with a red smartphone in his hands. The male, if standing next to Brook, would be a little shorter by a few centimetres, centimetres the other claimed did not exist. The male, or as Brook knew him as, Napoleon Feuille, had soft, fluffy brown hair hidden under the hood of his red coat, and soft red eyes filled with pride, confidence, and of course, mischief. As mentioned before, Napoleon was wearing a red winter coat with a white sweater underneath, a pair of white pants, black gloves, and some black winter boots. His face was a little red due to long exposure to the cold, but his grin was as warm as ever.

The second person sitting on the wall, idly swinging her legs over the edge and talking animatedly, was the only girl in the group and Napoleon’s partner in sugary crime, Sandra Ecora. She was around Brook’s height, i.e. taller than Napoleon (And that fact always drove the brunette _crazy_ ) with long, unbrushed hair, dyed a bright hot pink colour, and big, green eyes. She was dressed in a pink winter coat with a red, fluffy, wool shawl around her neck and a pair of earmuffs over her head. On her feet were a pair of red winter boots with the white pant-legs of her sweatpants tucked in. Brook could barely tell if she was shivering in the cold or not due to her hearty laughter and the excited wave she sent Brook’s way.

The last one sitting on the wall was obviously dying out there in the cold, you could tell from the way he shivered and hugged his chest in order to preserve body heat. His face was so red and his teeth were chattering so quick that the sight almost made Brook break into laughter. This poor, suffering soul was named Elois Carême. He was the tallest of the group by _at least_ six inches and had long, brown _\- almost black-_ hair with several white highlights that not only rivalled against Sandra’s own mess of a hairstyle, it looked as if someone had taken a balloon and rubbed it against his head, his hazel _\- almost gold-_ eyes just revealed how much he wanted to get somewhere warm. Looking at the clothes Elois wore, it was no wonder the poor guy was so cold. He was dressed in a white turtleneck with a black hoodie (That was obviously _not_ made for this weather), a pair of jeans, sneakers, a black beanie over his head, and a pair of red mittens Brook thought he could safely assume actually belonged to Sandra. The ravenette, and most likely everyone else, couldn’t help but pity the poor guy. 

He couldn’t help but grin a little upon seeing his friends out there, waiting for him.

** BJ:  ** Napoleon  
**BJ:** Why do you do this?

** NF:  ** We’re boooooooooooooooored!  
**NF:** And can’t we hang out with our bro? :(

** BJ:  ** Napoleon, what if my brother was home?  
**BJ:** The three of you would have come here for nothing if that were the case.

**NF:** Actually,  
**NF:** Both Sandra and I have already made predictions!

** BJ:  ** What

Brook raised a brow as he looked away from the window.

**NF:** According to our predictions, there is a 100% chance that Cel will receive a call from work!

** BJ:  ** Wait  
**BJ:** Seriously?

** NF:  ** Naaaah, I kid.

** BJ:  ** Elois is rubbing off on you, huh?

** NF:  ** There was a 5% chance that he would turn the call down or not receive is at all.  
**NF:** Maybeeeeeee  
**NF:** But I just wanted to make sure it *wasn’t* that 5% haha

** BJ:  ** If you could see my face right now

**NF:** You’d be unimpressed?

** BJ:  ** Very much so.

**NF:** :’)

Despite the claims his texts were making, Brook was, in truth, grinning at Napoleon’s childish nature.

** NF:  ** But judging from your responses,  
**NF:** Cel ain’t home  
**NF:** Riiiiiiiiiiiiiight?

** BJ:  ** Don’t pretend like I haven’t told you already.

Brooke waited for a few seconds.

** BJ:  ** Unfortunately so.

** NF:  ** D:  
**NF:** Brook  
**NF:** I’m so wounded  
**NF:** How could you?

The ravenette softly chuckled. He didn’t have to turn around to tell that Napoleon was acting all dramatic. The midget was probably laying down on the brick wall and fake-crying in order to resemble how most Disney Princesses would dramatically drape themselves over objects and cry.

** BJ:  ** How could you drag me out of my own home?

** NF:  ** But we *haven’t* dragged you out of your own home :)

** BJ:  ** Napoleon

** NF:  ** You’re unimpressed I know :’(  
**NF:** Y’know, if you don’t come out, can you at least let us in?  
**NF:** It’s cooooooooold :’(

** BJ:  ** You know I can’t do that  
**BJ:** It’s not worth risking Cel figuring out that someone besides me was home.

** NF:  ** Then can you please come out so we can all hang out?  
**NF:** There’s this cafe I saw in one of my visions and I wanna check it ouuuuut!  
**NF:** After that, we can even go to the arcade!  
**NF:** C’moooooon  
**NF:** It’ll be fuuuun!  
**NF:** We promise :’(

Brooke softly hummed in amusement. Even without all the begging, he had no qualms with sneaking out with his best friends. He’d like to think of himself as someone polite and mature, but sometimes, even he couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease his more childish friends.

** BJ:  ** Just  
**BJ:** Urgh  
**BJ:** Fine I’m coming  
**BJ:** But give me a few minutes to get ready.

** NF:  ** Yaaay! :DD  
**NF:** We’ll be waiting! uwu

** BJ:  ** Sandra’s obsession with smiley faces are really rubbing off on you, huh?

** NF:  ** Whaaaaaat?  
**NF:** No  
**NF:** That ain’t tru  
**NF:** You lieeeeeeee  
**NF:** I am so hurt  
**NF:** How could youuuuuuuuuuu

** BJ:  ** And Elois too  
**BJ:** His habits are rubbing off on you too

** NF:  ** :’(  
** NF:  ** Hurry up Brook!  
**NF:** It’s cooooooooooold!

** BJ:  ** Alright alright

The ravenette placed his phone onto his bedside table as he stood up and stretched, immediately heading over to his closet afterwards. He didn’t linger for too long though, as he took out several articles of clothing, one of them being a dark grey sweater that he slipped over his shirt. He then put on a clean, black winter coat and zipped it up before slipping on a pair of white winter gloves and pulling on a pair of white socks and slipping his feet into some black boots. Last but not least, he grabbed a light grey scarf, a yellow one with tacky chocolate eclair patterns on it, a pair of black winter gloves, and a black winter cap from his closet.

He wrapped the grey scarf around his neck and placed the cap and his head, making sure the scarf’s fabric went over his nose and the cap’s bill over his eyes.

Brook then reached under his bed and after fumbling around for a bit, his hand came back out with a black messenger bag, already filled with everything he would need for the night. He dropped the extra scarf and gloves inside before slinging the bag’s strap over his shoulder. He was ready.

Before he opened the window, he made sure to turn off his bedroom lights before moving on. He looked at the wall his friends were sitting on, and then the tree in between.

It had been a stroke of pure luck that one of the trees’ branches reached his window, and another reached the wall, so as carefully as he could as to not slip on frost, he climbed out of his window and onto the branch, closing the opening after him.

“Careful, Brook!” Elois called as Napoleon and Sandra watched the ravenette crawl from tree branch to tree branch with bated breaths.

Brook could not respond since he himself was breathing heavily but acknowledged Elois’ warning nonetheless. As he reached the end of the branch, Elois, due to being taller and therefore having slightly longer arms than either Sandra or Napoleon, held his hand out for Brook to take.

The ravenette clasped his palm around his friend’s hand and once he _knew_ they had a solid grip, Brook carefully hopped off the branch and onto the wall. He almost slipped off, but thankfully, with the help of his friends, he was able to regain his balance.

“I thought for sure you’d fall that time!” Sandra exclaimed. “It was so scary to watch!”

“I probably would’ve if you guys hadn’t caught me,” Brook replied with a dry laugh.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” Napoleon cheered, playfully punching Brook’s shoulder. Despite the situation, Brook could tell Napoleon wasn’t talking about him crawling out his bedroom window and almost falling.

“I think you all know by now that I wouldn’t miss the world for it,” he replied with a soft smile as his companions either giggled or smiled.

“Can we please get off this wall now?” Elois asked, “My ass is freezing.”

“Wouldn’t doubt it,” Napoleon cheekily replied as he began climbing down the tall folding ladder on the other side of the wall.

“Be careful, Napo, wouldn’t want you slipping and falling on your bum like someone else here,” Sandra joked as she gestured over to Elois before the hazel-eyed male had the chance to reply to Napoleon’s comment. The pale boy mock-gasped.

“Well, it isn’t _my_ fault these shoes weren’t made for the snow!” he replied in his best offended voice, which was clearly faked. The others laughed as Sandra began climbing down the ladder.

“You’re wearing sneakers,” Brook pointed out. “I’m not surprised.” After Sandra reached the snowy floor, Brook climbed down after her, and after him went Elois. Afterwards, the hazel-eyed boy folded the ladder back up and laid it on its side against the wall in hopes it would somewhat blend into the background.

“Now let’s go before Elois turns into a popsicle!” Napoleon declared.

“Agreed,” aforementioned male said with very little playfulness in his voice as to indicate how seriously cold he felt.

“Ah! Before we go,” Brook interrupted as he lifted the flap of his back. He first took out the tacky scarf and wrapped it around Elois’ neck, the taller male leaning down for Brook’s convenience. Afterwards, the ravenette took out the gloves and handed it over to his friend.

“Consider it an early Christmas present,” he said with a smile as Elois examined the scarf.

“The pattern’s atrocious, but it’s warm as hell,” Elois commented with a light-hearted tone.

The white-highlighted brunette proceeded to slip the red mittens off of his hands, revealing not bare hands, but hands dressed in a pair of skin-tight rubber gloves.

“Thanks, Sandra,” he said as he tossed the mittens to the pink-haired girl.

“No prob, Bob,” she replied as Elois slipped the black gloves over the rubber ones. He flexed his fingers a few times before breaking into a grin.

“A little tight of a fit, but thanks for the gloves, Brooke!”

“No problem, Elois,” Brooke replied. “Now, shall we get a move on?”

“Yes, let’s!” Napoleon cheered as he began to nudge Brook forwards.

Sandra flashed the blue-eyed ravenette a smile as she walked beside him and Elois walked in front of the group.

“So the usual place?” The hazel-eyed male asked,

“Unfortunately not,” Sandra replied.

“We don’t even need to bust out the percentages to say that Cel’s photoshoot is right in front of the pizza joint,” Napoleon explained as Elois booed.

“But you did have another plan in mind, no?” Brooke asked, referencing back to the cafe Napoleon wanted to check out.

“Yeah!” the brunette cheered. “I saw a possibility where we went to this new cafe down the street. Elois, Sandra and I paid it a visit yesterday morning, and the sweets are awesome! You just _have_ to try them!”

“Is that the only reason?” Brooke and Elois asked in almost perfect synchrony.

“Ye-”

“There’s a 45% chance that the guy at the cashier would be the guy Napo fell hard for!” Sandra teased as the others (excluding Napoleon) laughed.

“Called it!” Elois announced.

“W-well, what about that assistant girl of his?” the brunette pointed out, looking right at the giant of the group. “I know you want to see _her_.” Elois sucked in a breath, and if his cheeks weren’t already reddened from the cold, they would three shades of pink at the mention of a certain girl. Brook just laughed louder and was joined by their pink-haired friend.

“She wouldn’t be working at the cafe at this late hour,” Elois answered curtly, almost as if he were afraid of spilling any unwanted information if he spoke too much. Sandra ‘booed’ at Elois attempts at denial.

“So are we going there first?” Brooke asked once he stopped laughing.

“Not yet,” Napoleon answered. “That 45% chance rises to a 78% chance if we go there in an hour and Sandra and Elois want to go to the arcade first.”

“It closes in about thirty minutes and we are _so_ close to getting the plushie I wanted!” Sandra cheered as she and Elois each held up a large plastic jar filled to the brim with arcade tickets.

“Only 20 tickets off!” Elois added on with a grin. Despite the fact that this should be an occasion to celebrate, Brooke couldn’t help but feel a tinge of worry in his heart.

“Are you guys certain that dragging a giant unicorn plush into a cafe possibly full of people won’t attract too much attention?” he asked.

“Don’t worry!” Napoleon reassured. “The chances of more than 7 costumers at the cafe an hour later is fairly low.”

“And the chances of everyone’s attention being firmly glued on the unicorn or ignoring us completely is about 90%,” Sandra added on.

Brook nodded, a little relieved.

“However,” the pink-haired girl spoke once more, “we should be a little careful in the arcade ‘cuz there’s a 21% chance we might run into an encounter.” This caused Brook to cringe a little, but just a little. 

21% was fairly small compared to 79%, so he would just have to pray that good fortune would be on their side, and as long as he stuck around at least one of his friends, then everything would be fine.

That’s what he believed.

“Here we are!” Napoleon announced in a much quieter voice than his normal one.

Despite the fact that the arcade soon would close, there were still a good handful of people there playing their hearts out.

“Let’s go get that plush!” Sandra cheered as she and Elois led the group, Brook and Napoleon following closely.

In the city they lived in, there were a few arcades scatter about, most were located within malls and were normally _a lot_ bigger than this lone one. After all, they had to accommodate all those people which is why Brook and his friends only ever came to this one.

Despite its size, this arcade was most definitely not cheap. All around them were bright neon lights, loud music, and brand new arcade machines and games, why, one look at their prizes and anyone’s respect can immediately be won over.

“We still have 25 minutes before the arcade closes!” Elois yelled above the noise. “Why don’t we do some _Dance Dance Revolution_ as a warm-up?” he asked Sandra.

“Hell yeah!” she cheered enthusiastically before turning to Napoleon and Brook, “You guys don’t mind if we divide and conquer, right?”

“Not at all!” Brook reassured as Napoleon wrapped his arm around the ravenette’s shoulder.

“You two should hurry up though, ‘cuz the longer you wait, the less likely your chances of getting that plush becomes!” the brunette warned with a mischievous smile. Sandra gasped.

“You’re right! C’mon Elois!”

“Right behind you!” the poorly-dressed male exclaimed as the two made an immediate bee-line towards the _DDR_ machine.

Napoleon snorted as his grip on Brook became a little tighter, as if the ravenette was a lifeline, and frankly, he welcomed it.

“Wanna see if _Time Crisis 5_ is free?” the red garbed boy asked. Brook nodded as Napoleon began directing him towards the arcade machine the two were familiar with, lowering the bill of Brook’s cap at one point when Napoleon began to suspect someone looking at his friend.

After what felt like a century of looking at the floor, Brook and Napoleon had finally arrived at the desired game.

One autumn day about a year ago, Napoleon and the other had practically dragged Brook out of his house for the very first time and took him to this very arcade. One of the very first games they played was Napoleon’s favourite; _Time Crisis 5_ , and turns out that Brook was a natural at it, making it one of his favourite arcade games as well. It has at this point, become a tradition that whenever they dropped by the arcade, _Time Crisis 5_ was a game they just _had_ to play, and fortunately for the duo, it was currently unoccupied.

Napoleon grabbed the red gun as Brook grabbed the blue one, sliding enough coins into the coin slots for the two of them to play.

In a matter of a few minutes, Brook and Napoleon had cleared half of the game with only one death (some guy Napoleon had not forseen bumped into him while they were dealing with a boss, costing the brunette a digital life)

Truly, if they wanted to, they could have finished the game in the next five to seven minutes, but they weren’t going to do that, not when there were a few people watching them play, either in awe, or because they were waiting for their own turn, or perhaps, for both of those reasons, and frankly, neither were ideal, which was why the moment they finished this level, they moved on.

“Wanna see if I can get something from the claw machine?” Napoleon asked as he lead Brooke once more.  
The ravenette raised a brow, clearly doubting his friend.

“Aw c’mon, I see an 80% chance I’ll get one,” he continued with a sly grin.

Brooke chuckled, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

And that was how the two found themselves at a claw machine filled to the brim with stuffed dolls dedicated to one of their most favourite shows. Brooke could tell from the way Napoleon was hunched over to the way his gaze almost burnt holes into the stuffed toys that the brunette meant business, Brook almost felt bad thinking about breaking his concentration, so he just watched in peace, staring at the flimsy claw attempt to grab the soft plushies… 

“Ah, excuse me.” 

Before Brook felt someone _tap his shoulder_ and heard _an unfamiliar voice_ talk to _him._

As if by instinct, he stared at the ground and lowered the bill of his hat to keep his face out of sight. He slowly turned around.

“Is there something I can help you with?” he asked in a soft murmur, not once did his gaze leave his shoes.

“I saw you earlier playing _Time Crisis 5_ ,” the person started.

Brooke cursed mentally.

_‘I was too careless…’_

“There’s this one level my friends and I just can’t get passed and you seem to be quite the natural!” the person continued. Something about the way they talked greatly unsettled Brook. “I was wondering if perhaps, you could help us--”

“Sorry bucko, but that ain’t happening,” a familiar voice interrupted as they slung their arm over Brook’s shoulder. The ravenette couldn’t help but relax immediately when he saw Napoleon’s defiant glare out of the corner of his eyes.

“You see, my friend and I are now very busy so unfortunately, we have to run along now, have a good night,” Napoleon said with a _very_ passive-aggressive tone as he leads Brook towards the arcade doors before the other person could begin to respond.

Brooke had not realized he had been holding his breath until him and Napoleon could no longer feel the fleeting warmth of the arcade. The had returned the world outside and the cold winter air.

“Argh, I swear to god, that guy was at least fifty shades of shady!” Napoleon grumbled as he sat down on the snowy curb. Normally, Brooke would have laughed at such a sentence, but now? He wasn’t really in the mood to laugh, and neither was Napoleon. He too sat down on the curb.

“You okay?” the brunette asked, face and voice full of concern. Brooke nodded, but the way he bit his lip stated otherwise. 

A part of him felt a little bitter that because of him, the mood was dampened. It was probably a good thing Elois and Sandra weren’t around, or else those two would have almost immediately lost the motivation to keep playing. Because of what happened today, it’s possible him and his friends will be unable to come back here for a good while.

He felt bad.

“Brook.” Napoleon’s voice pulled the ravenette back into reality. Sad blue eyes met a pair of fierce, knowing red ones.

They shifted from side to side as if looking out for anyone that might be watching or listening in on them, almost as if Napoleon hadn’t been born so differently from others.

“It’s not your fault you were born as a siren,” the brunette said finally, “And an emotional one too.”

Brook had grown to be familiar with those words. It was a phrase Napoleon, Cel, Elois, and Sandra have all told him, time and time again.

It was like reading off a script, but the look in Napoleon’s eyes made it a little easier for Brook to accept that phrase as a possible truth.

“If anything, it’s my fault for being so careless-”

“You don’t have to blame yourself,” Brook insisted, “I’m the one who was born a siren-”

“And I was the one born as a butterfly oracle,” Napoleon continued. “My foresight informed me that there was a chance an encounter like that would happen.” He paused. “Yet I treated it like it was impossible.”

“I treated it that way too.” The two fell silent.

“I will only let you take half the blame if you let me take the other half,” Brook offered as Napoleon chuckled. It wasn’t like any normal chuckle, however. It sounded dry and tired, but there was a small hint of amusement.

“Sometimes I can’t believe this is how we resolve most of our arguments…” the shorter boy chuckled. It sounded sad, almost bitter, but there was a faint hint of relief that Brook could pick up.

“Frankly, I wouldn’t wish for it to be any other way,” the ravenette replied as he broke eye contact. “It’s proof that… that I can trust you guys with anything.”

Napoleon did not reply to that statement, but that smile… Brook could tell the sentiment was returned.

The two teens fell into blissful silence for a few minutes before Napoleon spoke up once more.

“Oh right, I completely forgot!” he said, hoping to pull Brook’s mind away from the encounter. “I managed to get this from the claw machine!” The brunette held up the doll for Brook to see.

There was this show Napoleon had introduced him to when they first met, it was called _Loyal Angels_. It was a series about a group of fallen angels learning to find where their loyalties lie amongst human society. Frankly, a show that any anomaly such as Brook and Napoleon could relate to.

And it just so happens that this plush was of Orochi, Brook’s favourite character from the show.

“Here!” Napoleon said as he put the doll in Brook’s hands, “It’s yours!”

“T-That’s really nice of you, Napoleon,” Brook said in a faltering voice. “But, I can’t accept-!”

“Nonsense!” Napoleon interjected. “I went for that one specifically ‘cuz I _knew_ he was your favourite, and if you’re worried about Cel possibly finding it, then my visions say that hiding it under your pillow will do the trick, so keep it! It’s an early Christmas gift from me to you!”

Blue eyes trembled from holding in an onslaught of tears, and the ravenette buried his face into the doll’s head.

“Th-thank you… How do I deserve you guys…?” The voice that came out of Brook was tremoring with several emotions, such as joy and nervousness. He could hear Napoleon move even closer and felt him wrap an arm over his shoulder.

The two stayed that way for some time before both of their phones suddenly vibrated. Napoleon took his phone and once he unlocked it, he chuckled, showing Brook the scene on the screen.

It was a picture, specifically, a selfie that Brook assumes to have been taken near the arcade’s prize counter. Sandra was the one who took the photo, smiling gleefully as she positioned the camera so that Elois could also be seen. The hazel-eyed male was carrying the _biggest_ unicorn plushie Brook had ever seen, and judging from the slight sweat on Elois’ forehead, it was as heavy as it looked, making it a good thing that Sandra _wasn’t_ the one carrying it, or else, she would have been immediately crushed under its weight.

It was a white, fluffy unicorn with a rainbow mane and tail and a shiny horn protruding from its head. Its eyes were looking in different directions, making the unicorn look a lot more derpy than it was probably intended to look, the fact it was cutely sticking its tongue out did not help much in that regard.

Still, the picture brought a smile to Brook’s face as he did nothing to suppress his chuckle.

“Looks like they finally got what they came here for,” he said with a light tone as Napoleon laughed in agreement.

“Looks that way.”

“So…” Brook spoke up again after a minute, “Are we still going to that cafe? Catch your crush at work?”

“Don’t start that again,” the red-eyed boy mumbled with a pout, bringing out a chuckle from the other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You could probably tell from the prologue and the confirmation during this chapter that the characters we have met are definitely not normal human beings uwu
> 
> Anyways,  
> TIME FOR SOME NAME FUN FACTS!!! :DD
> 
> 1) Chocolate’s first name, 'Celestino', means ‘Heavenly’, the words girls and guys would use to describe him. His last name, 'Joseph', is a reference to Joseph Fry, the man who made the first chocolate bar. Other choices for Chocolate’s first name was Chryses (Priest of Apollo) and Cocies (A Hero Who Saved Rome).
> 
> 2) Brownie’s first name, 'Brook', means ‘Lives by the Stream’ (And was also the name I gave him in my other Food Fantasy story; 'Your World') while his middle name, 'Machias', is not only a place but also the name of the 'Machias Cookbook', The cookbook for the first known recipe for chocolate brownies.
> 
> 3) Napoleon's middle and last name is a reference to how Napoleon Cake is also known as 'Mille-Feuille'.
> 
> 4) Sugar Cookies’ (One of the OC's here) human name, ‘Sandra’ means ‘Defender of men’. Her surname, ‘Ecora’, is literally the word ‘decorate’ if you remove the ‘d’ and the ‘te’. I got desperate, ok?
> 
> 5) Eclair’s first name, Elois, is one of a brave and famous warrior. His middle name, Jacob, is a reference to the alternate name for an eclair, ‘bâton de Jacob’. Eclair’s last name, Carême, is a reference to Antonin Carême, the man people speculated to create the first eclair.
> 
> Now that we're done with that, I am certain that some things have finally been made clear.  
> As outright stated in the story, both Napoleon and Brownie are anomalies. Napoleon is referred to as a Butterfly Oracle while Brook is called an emotional siren (And by association, you guys can probably guess Chocolate is some type of siren too.)  
> I'm pretty sure you guys can guess what Sugar Cookie is and as for Eclair, I suppose it's no secret? uwu
> 
> Also another fun fact!  
> The little bit of the story at the beginning of the chapter was NOT written by me or anything. It actually came from an Escape The Night fanfiction called 'Here We Go Again' by MysticalAuthoress.  
> It's a really good book and I love it so much :00  
> I originally put that chunk there for a placeholder, but then I kept forgetting and got lazy when it came to the thought of changing it, so I left it there.  
> But in short, I did NOT write that part uwu
> 
> Love, TSS_AA
> 
> Edit:  
> Added a nice summary after the cast list names uwu


	3. Love Square… Maybe?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NAMES (IN ORDER OF INTRODUCTION OF COURSE) UwU  
> Pastel de Nata: Pascal Jerónimos Maria  
> Shortbread (Soul_Soup-Senpai's OC): Sorcha McLintock
> 
> “Let me tell you a story of the humans who go through their life, never noticing the anomalies that stand by them. Whether it be in school, or out in everyday life. These special people feel everything the average person does, even love. And boy, does love make staying hidden complicated in areas, especially young love."  
> “Young love has a skill at being messy, so you can imagine how troublesome things get when you have four people in the same, complicated equation. Now try imagining two of those people being anomalies and the other two as normal humans. Yep, things are bound to get messy in the long run."  
> “It doesn’t end there, oh no it does not. Try picturing one person at one corner, with two others in the adjacent corners, and the one in the last corner pining for adjacent. Sparks will fly, figuratively and literally.”

“You know, you don’t have to stay here,” Pascal told the girl in front of him. It’s not that he wanted her to leave, as a matter of fact, he enjoyed her presence. It’s just that it was late, and the girl in front of him had things to do in the morning.

“It’s going to be fine, I did all my homework during my lunch break and the music lessons are done in-class,” the long-haired honey blonde replied as she wiped down the top of the display counter.

If one person was to describe the head pastry chef of the new cafe in the neighborhood in one word, it would be ‘meticulous’. Pascal  Jerónimos-Maria was a young man with long, brown hair in a loose ponytail, who would put so much work into his confections and pastries. They were lovingly decorated with their simplistic beauty, which compliments his standard outfit of a white chef’s uniform with a beige apron patterned with little egg tarts. His desserts went perfectly with the coffee and tea made in the cafe, bringing in lots of admirers.

Though, it seemed that the adolescent crowd was a much more typical sight because of the people who worked there. The cafe was usually filled with kids coming from after school, and most of them just ordered coffee and tea so they could look at the hot adults and their adorable part-timers. It was a bit of a hassle to deal with, if Pascal was to be honest about it.

He did worry for the safety of his new assistant, Sorcha McLintock, who he noticed would get death glares from the young girls that came in. She was the same age as them, and from the same school judging by their uniforms. From what he’s heard from her male peers, Sorcha was a popular girl with the boy crowds because she’s what was called a ‘tomboy’, and her already present popularity only earned her more spite from her female peers.

Truly, Pascal wished they would just leave the poor girl alone, but there’s not much he could really do about it, and Sorcha never mentioned about being bothered by them, so he dropped it as of now.

He continued to wipe the countertops with his assistant when at exactly 9 PM, the door chime went off and Pascal’s rose-gold eyes narrowed at the four youths that entered. 

His eyebrow arched at the sight of a very large unicorn in the arms of the punk who was very underdressed for the frigid weather outside. Unfortunately for Pascal and Sorcha, right behind and in front of the hazel-eyed male was an annoyingly cheerful pink-haired girl and a  _ very _ annoying, sugar eating, red-eyed brunette. 

Those three had come the other day, and even though the hazel-eyed punk seemed tolerable, his other two companions had caused one-too-many headaches in Pascal’s opinion. However, the fourth person with them, a blue-eyed boy with dark hair, was a new sight. In his arms, he cradled a doll from that show on tv _ \- something to do with angels if he wasn’t mistaking- _ and if Pascal were to be a 100% honest, the lowered cap, raised scarf, and the fact he was avoiding eye-contact with anyone and everyone, certainly made him look suspicious. 

He didn’t get the chance to dwell on it for much longer when, unfortunately, the red-eyed brunette broke off from the group and approached the two workers.

“Good evening, Pascal,” the short-haired brunette greeted with a smile as his companions got themselves situated at a table at the far corner of the cafe. 

Sorcha’s face went into a bemused glare at the sight of the red-eyed boy. The false gold-eyed teen instantly hid his face in the unicorn plush when he saw her looking at the group.

“What are you kids doing here this late?” the long-haired brunette questioned.

The annoying brunette almost looked as if he were to break into a chuckle as he quickly eyed Sorcha, as if silently asking why she herself was still there. Thankfully for everyone involved, the question went unsaid as he simply replied with,

“What? Can’t a customer come any time a cafe is open to get sweets?”

“Not after the headache you gave me only yesterday. We’ll be closing up in an hour.”

The new boy stood up from his chair and went to the annoying sugar beast, giving him a tap on the shoulder to get his attention. The ravenette started whispering into the short brunette’s ear, as if afraid of anyone else hearing him.

“Oh, it’s fine. They gave us a lot of treats the day before, and there’s plenty for all of us.” The new companion whispered again, sounding more hurried this time. 

“Now, Pascal may glare a little, but he gets pretty flustered when you buy his desserts by the handfuls.”

Pascal saw Sorcha roll her red-violet eyes at the short boy, and with an inaudible huff, she turned to a tea station behind the display counter and prepared a mug of hot water. The honey blonde placed the mug on a tray along with a jar of sugar, a stirring spoon and a saucer with an assortment of tea bags.

“No, I love everything about this cafe, it has nothing to do with-!” The stunned voice of the red-eyed boy brought their attention back. He was looking at the new boy with wide eyes and the red on his cheeks couldn’t be from the cold this time. 

“Don’t give me that look! It’s not like that all, I swear!”

The assistant pressed a hand to her mouth, suppressing a chuckle before preparing another mug to join the other. With practised ease, she lifted the tray onto her shoulder and walked around the display counter. 

Sorcha, as she was passing the two, lightly tapped the blue-eyed boy’s shoulder to draw his attention to her for a moment as she went to where the other two were seated. Pascal, however, noticed the boy freeze up as if her touch zapped him.

“Do you care to explain the big unicorn which clearly needs its own chair?” she teased the punk who still held the plush in his arms.

“Uh, this is…” His voice was filled with embarrassment, and he seemed to avoid eye contact for a different reason from the new boy. “It’s a big prize from the arcade. We finally saved enough tickets for it.”

“I keep forgetting that place is open in the late hours.” Placing the tray down on the table, she passed out one of the mugs on the saucer in front of the hazel-eyed individual and placed the other in front of a vacant chair. 

“Tea will be on me, especially for anyone who can embarrass that real-life sweet tooth so easily.” The honey blonde smiled towards the ravenette and gave him a thumb’s up before putting the sugar, spoon and teabag saucer on the table.

“Hey, wait a second!” the pinkette spoke up. She was glaring at Pascal’s assistant. “Why do Elois and Brook get free tea?!”

“Because unlike you and that other glutton who bothers Mr Maria, these two have my respect. Now, if you will excuse me.” Sorcha calmly turned on her heel and walked back to the other side of the counter.

“Thank you.” It was so quiet, it took Pascal and Sorcha a second to realize the voice came from the blue-eyed boy, who still wouldn’t make eye contact, much less face any of them. 

Before either employees could dwell on it, he returned to his chair and placed a chamomile tea bag in his mug.

“So what do you still have for us?” the red-eyed nuisance spoke, bringing the attention back to him. However, he looked a little nervous after noticing that the co-workers picked up his friend’s voice.

Pascal raised a brow upon this slight change in behaviour, but thankfully, made no comment upon it.

“Why don’t you take a look at the display instead of talking?” he asked, clearly unamused.

The brunette’s reaction was a perfect mix between a mock-gasp and a laugh as he seemed to struggle to find a response.

Nonetheless, as Pascal and Sorcha eyed the odd group, they couldn’t help but feel as if it would be a long night…

Despite the fact the cafe was closing soon, of course.

But, you get what we’re saying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's pretty short compared to the last one, sadly, but like, not much we could do about it :'))
> 
> Anyways,  
> TIME FOR SOME NAME FUN FACTS!!! :DD
> 
> 1) Pastel’s name, ‘Pascal’, was mostly chosen because it sounds a lot like ‘Pastel’, but if anyone is curious, it means ‘Easter Child’ (It was also the name I gave him in my other story, 'Your World'). His middle name and surname, ‘Jerónimos' and 'Maria’ respectively, is a reference to the Jerónimos Monastery in Santa Maria where pastel de nata’s were first made.
> 
> 2) Shortbread's (One of the OC's here) first name is Sorcha, a traditional Scottish name meaning “radiance” based on Shortbread’s personality. Her last name, ‘McLintock’, is from the woman who first recorded the recipe for shortbread in the late 1700s.


	4. A Vampire’s Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Let me tell you a story of a daywalker’s centuries of blood and surviving with immortality- well, close enough to it anyway.  
> "Questioning one’s own loyalties can either be easy or hard, depending on the experiences and the length of time they have seen and felt. An assassin’s world is a twist of warm blood, shady money, magic mirrors, and two special orphans who changed his mediocre existence. His life becomes more complicated when throwing in fashion, the church and… a years-long squabble that becomes more meaningful?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NAMES (IN ORDER OF INTRODUCTION OF COURSE) UwU  
> Red Wine: Reza Winter Sette  
> Frog Cake (SSS's OC): Frederick Balfours  
> Ice Cream Mochi (TSS_AA's OC): Fuyumi Hashimoto

The limp form of a man hit the floor with a thud. The man staring above with their glowing, dark red eyes clearly was responsible for the fleeting life. But if his loathing glare gave anything away, it was that he could quite care less about it as he wiped the blood off of his mouth.

_‘I was wondering when my next warm drink would be,’_ he thought as he unsheathed his dagged and sliced the man’s neck, destroying the bite marks in the process.

A part of him wished that staging this man’s death as a suicide was still an option since it would have saved everyone the troubles of possibly getting dragged to court. However, with the obvious struggle shown through the overturned furniture and the blood that coated the walls, no police officer would be dumb enough to rule this out as a murder.

He sheathed his dagger as he pulled out a purple phone with a wine glass sticker on the back from his pocket.

** RS:  ** I’m coming back from work soon.

As he waited for the reply, he pulled up his scarf as he walked over to the window, opening it as quietly as he could. It was fortunate his target lived in a fairly inactive area of the city, sneaking out of the apartment would be as easy as it was to sneak in.

** FB:  ** Cool  
**FB:** Make sure not to get caught in any traffic.  
**FB:** Fuyumi’s making dinner tonight and you know how ticked she gets when she gets your drink ready only for it to sit on the counter, untouched, for the next 24 hours.

Despite his current situation, he did grin a little at the reply.

** RS:  ** No need to worry, I will certainly be looking forward to it.  
**RS:** I just had a drink now and it tasted absolutely disgusting.

** FB:  ** Yikes

** RS:  ** Anywho, I’m turning off my phone for now.  
**RS:** Wouldn’t want to be an irresponsible driver, now would we?  
**RS:** The both of you better have your homework done by the time I come back, got it?

There was a brief pause where the man could only assume the one on the other side was groaning in irritation.

** FB:  ** Do we have to?

** RS:  ** I’m already letting you two cheat.  
**RS:** The least you could do is finish it on time.

** FB:  ** Fiiiiiiiiiiiiine -_-  
**FB:** See you soon, Reza

** RS:  ** Likewise, Frederick.

As he pocketed his phone, the dark-purple-haired man, Reza, began to crawl out the window, looking at the world below.

It was just an empty, filthy alley, yet he wouldn’t have it any other way. He let his body slip out the window.

Instead of crashing onto the ground and breaking a few bones from that three-story fall, or landing in a dumpster full of trash to break said fall, the gravity surrounding the man seemed to slow down as he was gently eased towards the pavement. At most, the only witness was a grey cat, which then scampered off after a hiss. The pale man didn’t bat an eye at it as he walked in the opposite direction.

**❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄**

“Get the frog off the table.”

“She’s not doing anything.”

“It’s clearly a distraction.”

“I can’t think clearly when it comes to History. Do I have to spell it out to you again?”

This banter between his two wards was what Reza returned home to after that boring drive with no good songs on the radio. As he expected, the two teens were huddled under the kotatsu in the sitting area, with textbooks, notebooks and loose papers covering the whole surface. There was a doll-sized frog plush in the middle of the table which was clearly handmade based on the stitches attaching the long, thin arms and legs to a bulbous body with a pink heart-shaped tummy, and its head was even bigger with large yellow eyes that had a “+” in one eye and a “-” in the other.

On one side of the kotatsu was a boy with pastel green hair pushed back with a metallic headband and a single long strand that was pink and hung over the book in front of him. His eyes were large and dark brown, pairing well with his fair toned skin and delicate features. He was dressed in a mint green shirt with a pale denim jacket styled with green flannel scraps sewn on the hem and the cuffs, and there was a cartoon frog pin on the collar. His pants were khakis with brown and pink stripes sewn on the thigh and knee areas.

On the other side of the kotatsu sat a girl with snow-white hair tied back into a bun with a delicate flower hairpin. She had sharp brown eyes and smooth, pale skin that appeared to be void of all warmth. She had on a small bead-chain necklace with a flower pendant and a pair of pastel green gloves on her hands. The girl was dressed in a white off-shoulder shirt with a light pink and green shawl over it, and if one looked closely, they could see the top of a knee-length, pastel pink skirt peeking out the kotatsu’s cover.

Reza sighed quietly. They never learned to get along, probably never will.

“I thought I said to have your homework finished by the time I got back,” he spoke, announcing his presence. 

The girl flinched before quickly regaining composure and turning to their guardian.

“Blame this frog-egg-for-brains for taking forever writing a short story for his English class,” she blamed. “He wrote a full book instead.”

“You’re one to talk when it comes to these History essays, stick-in-the-ice,” the pastel greenette snapped. “Welcome back, Reza. Your plate is on the counter.” He continued as both his and the girl’s attentions returned to their books.

The kitchen was right next to the sitting room, where there was an island counter with an odd set of three chairs around it. A plate of steamed greens and strips of fried cod were sealed in a plastic wrap, paired with a wine glass with a dark red liquid inside.

“AB positive, in case you wanted to know,” the girl pointed out from the sitting room. “The clinic was generous tonight.”

“Thank you, Fuyumi,” the man replied as he sat down at the table. 

As he leisurely sipped from the glass, he glanced over to the small dish rack with two cleaned plates and silverware. At least the two bothered to wash their own dishes this time, something he was usually stuck with when the two were cramming in their procrastinated homework. 

_‘Not even Fuyumi could deny that there were times she didn’t want to do her work,’_ Reza thought with an amused smile. As he lowered the glass, he stared at the softly ticking clock hanging above the inactive TV. 10:45 PM.

“Just for your information, you should probably finish up your work soon if you want a good night's rest,” Reza said to the two as he took another sip of his drink. Their reactions were a mixture of frustrated groans and displeased sighs.

“Also, not to bother your concentration, but Frederick?” The boy stopped moping as he looked at Reza. “Prediction?”

Frederick hummed in thought for a moment, occasionally stealing a few glances from the mirror with a silver frame across the room. 

“We should be in the clear,” he replied slowly, as if he himself was not entirely certain of the fact. “The chances that we get questioned are a mere 10%, but if both Fuyumi and I testify that you were helping us out with our homework, it should be enough to get the cops off our backs.” Frederick finished as he twirled his pencil with his fingers.

The apartment fell into a comfortable silence with just the sounds of pencil scratching, metal silverware tapping against ceramic and the clink of a glass as it’s set down. This peacefulness went for twenty minutes until Reza heard one of his wards stand up and move across the carpets. Moments later, there was the sounds of a finely tuned piano from a different room altogether, which meant that Frederick had switched focus from his History to his Music.

“I’m going to flash freeze him,” Fuyumi stated with irritation.

“It helps him relax before bed, and we do know History is not his favorite subject.”

Fuyumi sighed. Just that alone was enough for Reza to sense her frustrations, yet with an undertone of understanding. She looked over at the pastel greenette’s work and scowled at the sight of his history homework.

“Frog prince couldn’t even get this simple question right,” she said coldly as her pencil began moving across his page.

“Fixing his answers again, I see?” Reza said with a chuckle.

“It’s respectable that he refrains from abusing his foresight,” Fuyumi said, her glare looked moments away from setting the page. “But at this point, a part of me wishes he would abuse his power for history.” Reza laughed.

“You know that’s not what his power is. He sees the course of history going forward, not backwards. Frederick has gotten the two of you out of a lot of trouble because of this, remember?”

“And I tell him time and time again that I want him to stay out of my business.”

“You owe it to him that your identity as a Cryo Witch hasn’t been discovered,” the adult stated in a scolding tone. The snow white-haired teen froze, eyes slightly widened. “If not, who knows what could happen to you. Need I remind that people like you, Frederick and myself are what humans would want to put in cages to be lab animals.”

“You don’t think I know what the humans would do to us?” she snapped out of character. The piano in the background came to a stop. “How else would both the frog prince and I be practically orphaned?”

“Not ‘practically’, are.”

“You do realize that just helps my point?”

“Perhaps,” Reza replied, but something about his tone was different from before. It sounded a lot more stern, almost like the tone of a disapproving parent. Somehow this was enough to quiet Fuyumi down.

“Sorry about that,” she apologized.

“Your anger is understandable though. It’s just been a few three years since that tragedy,” he said solemnly.

Fuyumi did not say anything in response, at least, nothing relative to that topic.

“I’ll be getting ready for bed then,” she replied as she began to tidy up both her and Frederick’s books into two neat piles.

“Good night, Fuyumi.”

“I’ll see you in the morning, Reza.” The padding of feet followed, and Reza didn’t need to look when he heard a door close. In complete silence now, Reza finished the last of his plate and drank before washing his dishes in the sink.

“Everything I’m doing… is to protect these two… right?” he quietly asked himself.

He did not have much time to dwell on it when he received a new message.

A new hit.

Except… this one turned out to be quite different compared to all his previous jobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyways,  
> TIME FOR SOME NAME FUN FACTS!!! \\(^u^)/
> 
> 1) Red Wine's name, ‘Reza’, means ‘Perfect contentment of God’s decree’ and was reused from my old Food Fantasy story. His last name is a reference to 'Fratelli Sette', one of the most popular Red Wine brands in India.
> 
> 2) Frog Cake’s name, ‘Frederick’, means ‘Peace’ and ‘Council of the Elves’ amongst other things. His surname, ‘Balfours’ is a reference to the Balfours Bakery which had made the first frog cake in 1922 in Australia.
> 
> 3) Ice Cream Mochi’s name, ‘Fuyumi’, means ‘Winter’ and ‘Beauty’. Her surname, ‘Hashimoto’, is a reference to the founder of Mikawaya, the confectionary store that made ice cream mochi.


	5. Grim and Proper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided that,  
> "No... I won't tell you guys who is who until the next chapter uwu"  
> It's mean and cruel, but this is what a lack of food does to you ;))
> 
> Love, TSS_AA uwu

The wispy, frightful voices started up again, more riled up than usual. 

The overlapping, transparent words would normally send chills down any normal being... No, they would’ve driven any normal person mad with hallucinations and whispers of death.

However, to the lone man sitting on one of the many park benches within the graveyard, it did not bother him much anymore. After all, he wasn’t amongst those who were considered normal. 

He could barely remember the days when he was a normal being before he was picked out on a whim to serve and witness death in front of his own mauve eyes. That cold day still sent shivers down his spine whenever he thought about it. All of the tears he had shed for the soon-to-be-dead since then, all of the screams he heard when their lives were ended by an envoy of death or his own hands. Now, all by himself, he had to look over the souls trapped in this graveyard, hearing their cries every hour of the day and night.

A very light, unholy fusion of snow and rain began overhead, and the man opened his black umbrella without panic. It just added to the depressing atmosphere that he was in.

The soft pitter-patter of the rain threatened to wash the piling snow away, but to where, was the question. There were no nearby drains in the graveyard, so if it hadn’t been settled on a hill, Raian would have had to expect freezing water pooling around his quickly numbing legs.

He did not hate the rain, however, he did not love it either. Truly, his feelings regarding it were mixed.

He had been so preoccupied mindlessly watching the rain and snow drizzle down the sides of tombstones that he had not noticed he had company until someone sat on the bench next to him.

“Greetings, Shingen.” The pale redhead jumped in surprise, quickly turning to the occupant close to him.

“Oh. It’s just you,” he said, a little relieved upon seeing a familiar face.

His new companion was a young man with pale skin and fresh, light green hair with a fedora resting peacefully on top of his head. 

What most people were unaware about when it came to this man’s face was the... “deformities” he was born with. The man could have simply worn a mask to hide said deformities, however, Shingen knew that he would have refused to do so if he would be unable to wear his beloved aviator shades, which is why the man wore custom prosthetics to hide what was missing from his face.

His brown eyes were cold and looked to be fixed in a glare, however, that smirk on their face only looked mischievous.

The man sitting next to him was dressed in a black turtle-neck with a mint-green vest and a long, open, brown winter coat over it with matching laced boots, black gloves, and a pair of dark-grey pants (a little underdressed for the weather, but nothing really eye-catching), and in his hands, he held a flower-patterned umbrella to protect himself from the steadily growing rain.

The man hummed.

“So, what brings you here tonight~,” they said with a playful tone. Shingen only looked at him with a deadpan look.

“I work here,” he replied, unamused. “And if anything, I should be asking you this, I did not call for your assistance.” The other merely laughed.

“Do I truly need a reason to give company to the sourpuss banshee who likes to be glum the whole day?” he replied with a childish pout. “And even then, I was told to make sure you’re not hurt!”

“That reaper hasn’t been around here in years. He’s retired if you’ve forgotten in that empty head of yours. As of now, only Miss Madden’s words count.” The greenette gave a mock gasp and played a hurt expression.

“You know I can’t help the way my face is! And I’m supposed to be your partner! But you ditch me so many times!” he wailed like a young child that had not been given dessert.

“And  _ you  _ know that you’re not obligated to be my ride. That’s been over for decades. Plus, you just like that I sense death wherever I go.”

“Whaaaaaat? Noooooo…” he said. From the way he was twiddling his thumbs to the tone of his voice though, he was obviously not trying to defend his case. Shingen could only sigh at the childish behaviour.

“So did you hear from all the way up here?” the strange man started. “About the vampire?”

“There’s a lot of vampires in this city, be specific,” the redhead demanded.

“W-Well! Y’know,” the greenette said, all flustered, as he began to make odd hand gestures that proved no point, “The… vampire… that kills often, like, the one vampire in the city with the highest kill count!”

“Who’s keeping score of who kills who?”

“Oh, for Reaper’s sake!” the other man snapped with frustration. “The Daywalker! The hitman! The drinky-drinky killy-killy guy!” Shingen raised a brow.

“You mean that assassin?”

“Yes! Finally you’re up to speed! Though, he’s not really an assassin…” The greenette trailed off for a moment. “Most of his victims are supposedly men or women that don't agree with his boss.”

“What’s he got to do with us?”

“Uh, he may be giving you a run for your souls, obviously! He’s been getting to the people you should be slaying!”

“I don’t slay, I reap,” the redhead snapped. “And vampires drink blood, not eat spirits. Not to mention I don’t sense when someone is about to be murdered. I’m not an oracle.” He continued with a stern tone. “How have you been working longer than I have and not know these things?”

“Sheesh, sorry for offending your pride,” the other muttered. The two fell into silence, watching the rain continue for a little while more. Eventually, the clouds started thinning out and the rain stopped.

The greenette thought for a moment that the mauve-eyed man was going to fall into a plane between sleep and consciousness from his obvious exhaustion. He let out a small chuckle as to not stir him. However, that wouldn’t matter anyways, when all of a sudden the distorted voices rose in volume to be even louder than minutes ago. It completely woke Shingen, and he sat up.

“Whoa, what’s gotten those wispy things all in a twist?” the greenette wondered. The redhead beside him looked just as mystified.

“The spirits are even more restless than before,” the banshee told the fellow anomaly. “They’ve only been like this when the Grim Reaper left his position.”

“What does it mean?” he inquired.

“It’s possible that…” Before Shingen could finish the sentence, a tear fell from his eye and slid down the side of his face.

“Do forgive me,” Shingen apologized as he stood up from the bench. His legs wobbled and ached like the legs of a newborn fawn, but he tried to bear with it as he picked up a metal crutch leaning against the seat and tried to balance himself with it.

“But, I must go now,” he continued, “It seems I have a family to warn, and a few souls to reap.”

“You should really be careful,” the greenette advised before Raian could begin to wobble away. “Without the boss around, you’re just using up your energy. You’re already using a lot to hold in those tears.

“Plus it wouldn’t do anyone good if your legs went completely numb and you fall somewhere dangerous.” To this, Shingen shook his head.

“There is no need,” he insisted. “I can make it there before things get rough, but if I’m wrong, I will call you.” 

As Shingen began to stumble away, all the man could do was watch.

“Just be careful okay? And don’t get caught!”

There was no reply. The redhead just continued to hobble away from where the other was still seated.

The greenest sighed, turning to once again look over the eerie graveyard with the riled souls trapped there.

“Guy wasn’t always like this…” he mumbled to himself sadly. “And now this…” When it came clear to what those spirits were saying, he quickly got to his feet, a look of shock crossing his face. In all his years, this behaviour was surely not natural for a spirit with no form to themselves.

“... Prayers?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah...  
> This chapter is kinda short, we will admit :PP  
> I was actually considering merging it with the last chapter, but that didn't happen.  
> Why? I don't know, I just didn't.  
> But hey! Two chapters in a day :DD  
> That happened uwu
> 
> TSS_AA


	6. Face to Fate with Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NAMES PART ONEEEE~  
> Bonito Rice: Bonito Edo
> 
> There are two other significant characters in this chapter, however, I will not disclose their identities until the end ;))  
> Bonito's grandfather isn't meant to be anyone important, however, I did base him off of the old man who took in Bonito Rice in his backstory

The sudden roar of thunder woke a young boy who was snuggled up in a cat patterned blanket. His bedhead made the short cut, dark brown hair look like cat ears on either side of his head, and he wiped at his large, brown eyes like a feline.

The small tabby at the end of the boy’s bed perked up when it sensed its owner was awake. The cat went up to sit on his lap, and the boy started stroking the groomed fur.

The air in the modest bedroom became cold, despite the fact the heater was still on judging by the low rumble of the vent system. Lightning flashed outside the bedroom window, which illuminated a figure with a cane just outside. 

Curious as to who would be out in the middle of the night in a thunderstorm, the boy grabbed the fluffy tan bed robe that hung on the back of his bed, put it on and climbed out of the warmth of his comforters with the tabby in his arms.

A chill went down his spine when his ears picked up the sound of crying. Not because it was someone crying in general, but there was something… ominous about it. It didn’t sound like it was natural, as if it was forced and without the sadness that usually came with it.

Lightning flashed again, and the figure was even closer to the small house that was the boy’s home. The cat began to hiss and dig its shortened nails into the robe. Realizing that something was going to happen, the brunette quickly left his room and navigated through the dark to another bedroom.

“Grandpa,” he called in fear. At the frightened voice, an old man with white hair stirred under the covers and slowly rose into a sitting position.

“Bonito? What is the matter, _koneko_?” he asked. The brunette wasn’t even aware he was holding in his breath until he felt himself sigh in relief. He immediately went up the old man and hugged him.

“It’s… It’s nothing,” Bonito tried to insist. The man, sensing something was amidst, ran his wrinkly hand through the mess of brown hair. They remained quiet, holding each other, when the sound of crying became loud… too loud, as if it came from the other room.

Bonito snapped up with a gasp of horror.

“Bonito, what’s got you all spooked like a kitten in a bath?” the grandpa asked once more. The brunette didn’t reply, frantically looking around the room for anything to use. He finally spotted an umbrella, his grandpa’s favourite umbrella made of paper and patterned with faded koi.

“Pretend you’re still asleep, Grandpa,” the boy whispered, placing the tabby on the bed and climbing out to reach for the umbrella. The old man gave a look of concern, but otherwise laid back down and closed his eyes. Bonito took position in the corner, umbrella raised and prepared for anyone… _anything_ that came through that door.

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

His tears finally dried by the time he reached the door of what he assumed was a bedroom. The banshee didn’t even need to open the door, he just phased right through. There was a familiar sight before him, an elderly man in bed, dozing away. He raised his umbrella, which shifted into a more lethal weapon in the shape of a sickle. The mauve-eyed man steeled himself for another reaping.

A scream of terror took him by surprise.

“Get away from my grandpa!” Suddenly, there was a paper umbrella being swung at the redhead. Completely taken off guard, the umbrella slammed against the banshee’s head, sending him to the floor. His cane was knocked away from him as he fell, and his head was swimming from the pain.

Shingen came here, aware that anything could happen, but for sure, this was not what he thought would actually ever happen. 

This boy had felt him coming, something that had never occurred in all his years as both a banshee and a temporary reaper. That was the only conclusion he could come up with.

The point now was that the family was warned, aware that he was there, and even though he was not able to reap the old man’s soul (Which would come with several consequences), he certainly did not have to stick around.

So he tried to abscond.

‘Tried’ was a keyword in this case.

When all you can feel in your head is pain and your crutch had been kicked away, running away was a very… difficult thing to do.

“Bonito!” The banshee’s mauve eyes snapped towards the man in bed, who was clearly awake. “I have taught you better than to strike a crippled person.”

“Grandpa, he came to kill you!” the boy argued.

That was the only distraction Shingen needed to reach for the closest piece of stable furniture and hoist himself onto his feet. He did not have the time to retrieve his cane, he just wanted out of there.

He phased through the bedroom door, and through everything that dared to stand in his way. He did not have the time to bump into furniture and objects, he could hear the boy behind him yell out.

“Come back here!” Fear shot through him. Never before had the banshee not only been caught in the act, but been pursued.

His legs were growing weaker and weaker by the second and he swore the boy was catching up to him every time he stumbled.

With a trip that almost proved fatal, he found himself outside on the front porch, soaked in rain and snow. Pain shot up through his whole body when he hit the pavement as curses began to fill his thoughts.

He _had_ to get up.

He _had_ to get away.

He could _not_ afford to stick around any longer.

He could _not_ let his consciousness slip away, not now.

He tried to force his arms to push him onto his feet… _And then he heard the front door open behind him._

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Bonito stared down at the fallen man in front of him, all fear draining from his being and replaced with perplexion and concern. 

He now had a better look at the culprit now that the light of the moon was illuminating them. They appeared to be male, perhaps of 19 years of age… maybe 20, but that would be a stretch. His red hair was short and pale and his mauve eyes were cold and empty, pairing well with his pale skin.

The clothes he wore consisted of a white turtleneck and a maroon sweater under a simple pale red trench coat, with worn black gloves, mulberry-colored pants, and thick black winter boots with white faux-fur on the seams.

The man looked completely normal despite his unsettling eyes, but after witnessing this intruder run through things like they weren’t there, Bonito had his doubts this person was even human.

“Are you a ghost?” he asked calmly, almost as if the entire ordeal from earlier had not happened.

The man looked stunned as he recovered from the pain his fall had caused, but instead of responding in words, a fit of coughs ripped through his throat. The thunder roared once more, reminding the brunette that this was a serious storm and that no one, not even whatever this man was, should be out in.

So against his instincts saying to not go near the man, Bonito reached down and draped one of the man’s arms over his shoulders and hoisted him up to lead him back inside the house.

His intentions had been to help him out, but the man didn’t seem at ease from this fact. On the contrary, he began to frantically try and unhook himself from the boy. 

“H-Hey! Calm down!” Bonito tried to say.

Despite the fact the man was certainly crippled and possibly injured, he had still been capable of pushing himself away from Bonito. The man crashed back onto the porch as a result of having no support, the entire time, he was just mumbling apologies as he persisted to drag himself away.

“Now you just stop right there, young man!” Grandpa called out, causing the man to freeze altogether. The old man, despite his age, was marching up to the redhead with a determined look like no other. “You expect us to let you walk out in the worst storm of the year while you are in no such condition to go anywhere especially as you are now? Adults like you should already know better.”

The man could only apologize some more.

“I had to…” the man mumbled softly, not even bothering to finish his sentence.

Just that and the look of shame on his face was enough of an indicator to Bonito that he did not want to be here at all. He wondered if he was feeling that way the entire time, or if he had just been feeling this way now.

“ _Koneko_ , can you fetch some towels and the quilt for this man? He clearly has his reasons, and he’s sure to catch a cold being soaked to the bone like this.”

The man looked as if he were about to argue with this, but Bonito retreated back into the house to get what his grandfather asked for… as well as the man’s cane, because that was still in his grandfather’s bedroom.

Getting the towels and the quilt happened uneventfully, but when Bonito reached down to pick the cane off of the bedroom floor, something about it caught his eye.

There was something carefully carved into its stand… kanji, to be precise, something Bonito was familiar with due to his lineage and his grandfather teaching him his mother language.

Curiosity overtook him, of course, as he read out the words the words scrawled on its surface.

_‘Raian Shingen, Forever Loyal’_

When Bonito returned outside, he saw his grandfather crouched by the man who still laid on the snow covered floor.

At the time, Bonito did not notice, but when he had time to think about it, he would assume that back then, they had talked to one another, resulting in that strange, peaceful look in his grandfather’s eyes at the time.

Bonito did not question it as he stepped back out into the rain with the supplies.

  
  


💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Raian sighed as he wobbled away from the house. Not once did he look back to see if the old man and his grandson had returned to the warmth of their home, or if they were still staring at Raian’s form retreating into the distance. He just kept wobbling away.

This turn of events was certainly… unexpected to him. Throughout his entire career, not once did anyone actually pick a fight with him, leave their homes as talk to him so when it actually happened, it took him by surprise and left him to improvise a good chunk of that conversation.

He didn’t know what most people talked about.

Besides his partner’s frequent pestering, he did not know or talk to many people. He preferred not to get close to normal people or even other anomalies, and he’s now seeing how being that isolated was coming back to bite him in the rear.

Raian was immediately pulled back into reality when he tripped. If he hadn’t caught himself with the use of the crutch, he would’ve face-planted onto a street full of snow and rain like earlier. The feeling in his legs was quickly drifting away, and he could feel himself panic deep within his core.

A part of him was dreading what he was about to do next, but right now, he did not have much of a choice, and perhaps, he could use some terrible advice.

He pulled out his phone.

**RS:** Milan

The red-head had to wait a few seconds for a response.

**MR:** You called? ☆⌒c(´∀｀)ノ  
 **MR:** And you used my name! Happy me! (/^▽^)/

 **RS:** Are you busy?

 **MR:** Unless you consider getting crushed by your roommate in Mario Party as busy, not really. （（●´∧｀●））  
 **MR:** Why? （・□・；）

 **RS:** I think I might need a ride.  
 **RS:** And some coffee

 **MR:** I knew this was going to happen eventually! I warned you! (ಠᗣಠ)

 **RS:** You didn’t warn me about anything.

 **MR:** I warned you to be careful! s(・｀ヘ´・;)ゞ

 **RS:** Just hurry up and get over here.  
 **RS:** Seriously I am all out of sorts tonight.

 **MR:** On my way! d=(´▽｀)=b

Raian didn’t need to wait very long for a blur of black and green coming his way. It came to a stop just in front of him, and the air became frigid around them. The shadowy creature… or more accurately, _creatures_ resembled the body of a headless black horse with light green mane with a rigid, headless man on its back, but only for a few seconds before the creatures began to twitch and shift until there was only one man where it once stood, one familiar man with a familiar smirk on his face.

“Your coach is here, good sir,” the man joked with a silly, unsteady bow.

“You couldn’t bring the car this time?” Raian questioned with annoyance. The greenette, Milan, pouted.

“I needed to stretch my leeeeegs,” he complained childishly. “Plus, there’s no one out and about in a storm like this.” 

The banshee rolled his eyes at the greenette, but otherwise didn’t say anything as he wobbled up to his steed. The man became wisps of smoke and green again, with the redhead saddled on the back of the shadowy horse in place of the headless man.

“Just thought I should tell you now, Milan, but I’m shoving this job onto you,” Raian told the headless creature with an amused grin and it snorted in response, as if it was complaining to him.

Raian paid no mind to it, however, as he stroked the wispy green mane of the creature. The horse then ran down the lamp-lit street without another sound. The redhead held tightly to the green mane as they passed several houses.

 _‘Raian,’_ the disembodied voice of Milan sounded in the banshee’s head. He sounded very serious for once. _‘I looked into why the spirits were acting strange.’_

“You have? Did you find anything?” the redhead questioned.

_‘Only that you seemed to be onto it already… There’s a new Grim Reaper.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NAMES PART TWOOOOOO~ :DD  
> Raindrop Cake: Raian Shingen  
> Mint Chocolate Chip (TSS_AA's OC): Milan Ricketts
> 
> These two are our mystery peeps from the last chapter uwu
> 
> Anyways,  
> TIME FOR SOME NAME FUN FACTS!!! :DD
> 
> 1) Bonito's last name is the name of the Era (Edo Era) where most of the Japanese lower-class began eating Bonito Rice.
> 
> 2) Raindrop Cake’s last name is a reference to Mizu Shingen Mochi, another name for Raindrop Cake.
> 
> 3) Mint Chocolate Chip’s human name, ‘Milan’, can mean ‘Eager’, but it can also mean ‘Gracious’. His surname, ‘Ricketts’, is a reference to Marilyn Ricketts, the creator of mint chocolate ice cream.


	7. To Market, to Market

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> List of Featured Characters in Order of Appearance:  
> Chili (SCS's OC): Jesse and Scarlet Alegria  
> Plum Juice: Lian Xu  
> Hawthorne Ball: Hua Tanghulu  
> Pancake: Ping Tagenias  
> Peking Duck: Jianguo Quanren  
> Bamboo Rice: Guiying Mulayari  
> Yuxiang: Wenxiang Sichuan  
> Yep, the whole Bamboo Mist Pawn Shop gang is here!  
> And there's one more who appears, but I'm not going to reveal his name just yet! Tee hee! n_n
> 
> -Soul_Chicken_Soup

The morning that followed that treacherous storm was a quiet one laced with a thin fog in the morning sun. A humble building decorated with potted bamboo in its parking lot made it stand out from the other buildings nearby.

On the building’s sign was a logo designed to look like it was made from branches of bamboo. That’s probably why it was called “Bamboo Hall Market”.

The parking lot was empty, until an ecru-colored mini van pulled in. The car parked in the front, and a young man climbed out of the driver’s seat. 

His hair was short and colored a pristine white and his skin was pale, bringing out his dark grey eyes. He wore a beige hat similar to those worn by fishermen, paired with a dark green turtleneck sweater and brown winter vest. His pants were simple grey-blue jeans and he had on light grey loafers.

The opposite side of the van opened, and a little redhead girl jumped out with a pink backpack designed with cartoonish chili peppers on her back. 

Her pixie cut hair was so bright and fluffy, one would more believe her head to be a red dandelion puff than actual hair. A carnelian eye shined as radiantly as her fair skin, and her other eye was covered by a red flower-shaped patch. Her ears were covered with yellow earmuffs with a red headband and she wore a thick, red-violet coat with pink mittens, and black leggings under a floral, red-orange skirt, and brown boots with brown red beads sewn into the holes.

The man opened the back of the van and reached in to pull out two medium sized boxes. He reached in again and took out a smaller package and handed it to the little girl.

“You be extra careful with this one, okay sweet pea?” the white-haired man told her with a smile that could melt snow. “It carries a custom blend Daddy’s friend had requested.”

“Of course, Daddy!” the child replied cheerfully with a smile as radiant as herself. “It’s your boyfriend’s request, after all!”

Bright red crossed the father’s face, and his face read pure embarrassment.

“Scarlet, as I’ve said, Mr. Quanren is not my boyfriend. He’s a really important business partner as our pay from him is what supports us.”

“But you’re always so happy when you see him,” the girl pointed out. “I’ve only seen you like that in those pictures of you and Mommy.”

There Scarlet went again, always saying what’s going through her mind. The mention of her late mother, her father’s girlfriend, was still a sore subject to the young adult.

It was something of a miracle that the young 8-year-old understood she no longer had a mother, but he could still sense that she just wanted him to be happy. That’s probably why she thought her dad’s business partner, the manager of Bamboo Hall Market, was the perfect match for him.

“Let’s go and drop off these remedies, then pick up Hua and Ping to get you three to school on time.”

“Yay! Ha-Ha and Ping!” The father still didn’t fully understand where that nickname for Hua, “Ha-Ha”, came from. It didn’t matter as long as the other 8-year-old wasn’t bothered by it.

He watched his daughter skip up to the megastore’s automatic doors as he carried in the bigger boxes behind her. The doors opened smoothly and the two went inside.

Rows and rows of produce, baking materials, canned food and all sorts of other items were neatly organized in their aisles, labeled by the large signs hanging above to let shoppers know what was where. The father and daughter walked past the groceries to the very back, where a young, bespectacled man with blue eyes and long, white hair in a low ponytail was waiting by a door labeled _“Employees Only”_ with a clipboard and pen in his hands.

“Good morning, Mr. Xu!” Scarlet greeted. The man looked up from his clipboard with a small smile.

“Good morning to you too, Mr. and Miss Alegria,” he replied. “Mr. Quanren is almost done getting Hua ready. Please head inside as you wait for them.”

“Thank you, Mr. Xu!”

The other side of the door led two ways, one being a pair of stone stairs with a metal railing with, for some odd reason, duck designs between bars shaped like bamboo. Scarlet started happily hopping up each step as her father followed. At the top of the stairs was a tatami door, and the two could hear several voices from behind the thin paper.

Carefully balancing the packages in one arm, the white-haired man knocked on the wooden part of the door.

“Scarlet is here!” a youthful girl’s voice cheered. The door was swiftly thrown open to the side, hitting the stop with a loud _‘bam’_ which made the family of two flinch in surprise.

Standing before them was a girl about Scarlet’s age with long, black hair that was put into twin braids and a pair of huge, turquoise eyes that glistened with the innocence of a child. Her red-accented cream dress looked like it was made of a thicker material than cotton, and it had designs of pink lotuses all across the hem of the skirt. Around her neck was a bronze gold necklace that was looped around her neck several times and still hung below her collar bone, and under her dress, she wore grey leggings with red and pink butterflies. In her hands, she held a red coat that matched Scarlet’s to a tee, a pair of honey gold mittens, and calf-high mulberry snow boots.

“Ha-Ha!” Scarlet tucked the small box into one arm as she went to hug her friend. The other girl squealed as she hugged back despite her hands being full.

“Good morning, Mr. Alegria,” a young boy, close to his teens, came over and greeted the single father.

He was a spirited youth with red-streaked, dark brown hair up in a high ponytail and a white bandanna headband keeping his bangs out of his face. His eyes were a red as bright as Scarlet’s hair, and paired with lightly tanned skin, he was the definition of a boy at the cusp of adolescence.

His top was a simple, brown, low-collar sweater vest with a black, long-sleeved shirt, which was paired with a pair of light brown trousers adorned with a strawberry sewn on the left pocket. He was holding in his arms a tan-colored scarf, a mahogany jacket and a pair of dark brown boots.

“Good morning, Ping,” the young adult answered. “Is-”

“Your boyfriend is just over in the kitchen,” Ping interrupted with a mischievous grin. The grey-eyed man’s face went red again.

“Your guardian is _not_ my boyfriend.”

“Not this again, Ping. Stop with those silly assumptions,” a mature voice chided. 

A tall man with light brown, braided hair the same length as his whole body came into what looked like a living room with two wrapped lunchboxes in hand. His features were refined with fair skin and sharp, honey gold eyes with a monocle over his left eye. He wore a wine-red dress shirt with a button-down collar and a black tie under a brown waistcoat, slacks the same color as his waistcoat, some out-of-place cartoon duck-face cufflinks on the shirt’s sleeves, and dark red prayer bead bracelets around his wrists.

“Forgive him, my friend, he got that idea in his head only recently,” the light brunette apologized.

“Hi, Mr. Duck!” Scarlet called, looking over Hua’s shoulder to the man.

His last name was pretty hard for a child to pronounce, hence the store manager gave the girls permission to call him “Mr. Duck”.

Why? Because ducks were this man’s favorite animal. It was adorable in the father’s opinion.

“It’s good to see you too, Scarlet. Thank you again for helping your father with the deliveries. They’ve been in high demand lately.”

“That’s because they’re Daddy’s recipes!” the redhead boasted with a bright smile. “They always work! And they taste good too!

“Oh!” she gasped. Kicking off her boots, she skipped into the room and held up the small package to the monocled man. “Daddy said this is for you!”

“It’s the custom tea you asked for,” the white-haired man explained. “The one with the dried ginger, rosemary and poppy petals. Four bags in total, individual serving size.”

“Oh thank you, I’ve been looking forward to this one,” he replied with a kind smile as he received the package. “You can just set the two other boxes by the door. Guiying can set them up later.”

“Where _is_ Mr. Guu, Mr. Duck?” the carnelian-eyed girl asked, looking around the room. “He’s usually here.”

“He and Wenxiang had to go make some deposits earlier this morning. I’m afraid you just missed them, Scarlet.” The little girl gave a pout, which was too cute on her face and made the man chuckle.

“Hua, Ping, go ahead and get your shoes on so Mr. Alegria can take you to school,” he told the two kids living with him, then handed the lunchboxes to Ping.

“Okay, Mr. Duck!” the turquoise-eyed girl answered before stepping out of the house part. The pre-teen followed right behind her, giving Mr. Alegria the space to place the boxes by the doorway.

“You better go with them, Scarlet,” the father called to his daughter. “I’ll be down after I speak with our, technically speaking, employer.”

“Let me know when your date is, Daddy!” Scarlet didn’t give her poor dad a chance to refute that when she grabbed her boots and took off down the stairs.

His face had gone almost as red as his daughter’s hair, and he had to pinch between the eyes to get control of his senses.

“Must be your daughter that’s gotten Ping into insisting you’re my boyfriend,” the light brunette sighed in exhaustion.

“I am terribly sorry for the inconvenience Scarlet has caused you, Jianguo. No matter what I tell her, she keeps calling you my boyfriend. At this rate, she’s going to be calling you ‘Mommy Duck’.” He gave a dry chuckle at the end.

That got a blush on the manager’s face as he quickly broke eye contact.

“I’ll keep trying though,” the grey-eyed father assured. “I’ll see you later when I drop off Ping and Hua after school.”

“Yes. I suppose this is ‘Farewell’ for the next couple of hours.”

The man stepped away from the entrance and gave him a nod of acknowledgment before gently sliding the tatami door shut.

Jianguo felt the tension leave his body once he stopped hearing footsteps on the stairs. He felt as if all the energy he had during that morning left his body, and he let himself collapse onto the pile of seat cushions in the middle of the room.

Those kids and Scarlet’s father were going to be the death of him one of these days.

# 🦆🦆🦆

“Hey…!”

“Jianguo…!”

“Jianguo, wake up!”

The light brunette’s eyes fluttered open slowly. But before they could fully open, they just closed again.

“Guiying!”

“Wah!” Suddenly, Jianguo was hanging upside down by his ankles, courtesy of a gigantic man with wild, bamboo green hair and forest green eyes. He was very muscular with a scar from his forehead to over his right eye and very tan skin. A brown bandanna was messily wrapped around his head, doing little to hold back his bangs.

Despite the time of year, he was wearing dark green beater with a thin, white jacket with bamboo leaf patterns on the sleeves and hood. His pants were brown and baggy with green pockets and a patch that looked like a muskrat on the outer side of his right thigh. Jianguo never understood how the muscular man was capable of getting through winter dressed like that.

“Okay, I’m up! Guiying, put me down!” the brunette ordered.

Not so gently, the giant man dropped his boss onto the cushions. The monocled manager sat up and gave a brunette woman, who wore her hair in a bun, a scowl.

She was gorgeous by all means, the image of a mature woman, but her manners didn’t pair well with her ash brown eyes and her black rose hairpiece holding up her large bun, and the light appliance of red lipstick that stood out against her pale skin. She was still wearing her burgundy coat lined with black faux-fur over the gold-accented, red Chinese dress with the black garters decorated with gold cloud-like designs.

“How many times has this happened in the month alone now?” Lian asked from the doorway, looking down at his boss unamused.

“I’d say roughly twice a day every weekday, one in the morning, one in the early evening, so about almost 40 times,” the only woman in the room said.

“This would be a lot easier on us and the kids if you just hurried up and asked Jesse out,” the giant greenette said far too bluntly for Jianguo’s liking.

“I agree with Guiying,” the woman supported. “You’re acting like a teen fretting over whether or not to ask your dream girl to prom.”

“For the last time, I don’t see Mr. Alegria that way,” Jianguo rebutted as he stood up. “Besides, he’s got enough on his plate with being a single father to begin with.”

“And Scarlet is clearly working with Ping to set you two up on a date,” the bespectacled man pointed out like it was no surprise. “Seriously, if even the kids can see it, just get on with it.”

“One date isn’t going to kill you, Jianguo,” Guiying stated. “He’s certainly got enough free time at that.”

“We are not going to be going on any dates, and that’s final,” Jianguo stated sternly, looking at all three of his employees with a stern scowl. “Right now, we have a store to run, and I don’t need you three pestering me over this childish fantasy.”

With a huff, the light brunette marched up to the doorway and picked up a pair of black, slip-on shoes before stepping out of the living quarters.

Walking amongst the stocked shelves and fridges, the manager headed towards a certain section on the far right side of the megastore. To his surprise, there was someone there, this early in the morning. He looked like a young man with very fair skin, black and white hair with a small bun, and he seemed to have this thing with being half-black and half-white in in his tight-fit attire too. All Jianguo could see of this man in attire was the warm coat that was black on the right half and white on the left half, leggings that were inverted with his coat, a pink flannel wrapped around his waist with matching earmuffs over his head, and black and white boots with pink Chinese charms on the outsides.

The man was looking through the selection on the wooden shelves, quietly inspecting the labels with the ingredients. He’d read through one and then look at another, repeating the process.

“Is there something I can help you with this morning?” the light brunette asked, slipping into his business persona. The man jumped at the call, nearly dropping a jar of dried red contents but managed to catch it just in time.

The young man turned to him, and now Jianguo could see his mismatched eyes, pink in his right and white in the left (though he was positive that the man wasn’t blind in that one, it lacked the fogginess a blind man’s eyes would have). This person also had several piercings on his face, even one under his bottom lip that was linked to his right ear by a thin chain.

This was no man, this was a kid with no manners, most likely. At best, he looked old enough to appear like a fresh, young adult.

“Oh, I was looking at these special remedies,” the mysterious teen replied. “I’ve never seen blends such as these before, and I have a thing for making medicines myself.”

“Ah yes, I am proud to say that this store is the only place you’ll find this. I have a special friend that makes them. He gets extra credit for once being a surgeon in the military.”

“A surgeon making herbal medicine?” the youth said with a bewildered voice that didn’t quite sound genuine. “Quite impressive! Do you know where I can find him?”

That ticked something off in the store manager. Someone seeking Jesse out? A strange feeling went through him at the thought of this punk wanting something to do with the sweet single father.

“Why should I tell you about my business partner?”

“O-oh! You’re the manager?” the kid gasped, completely surprised. The mismatched boy turned away, and he started mumbling to himself. Jianguo was only able to catch one phrase, which only confused him:

“Working for a human…?! A witch as powerful as he is…?!”

“You better not be calling my partner a witch, or I will have you removed from here,” Jianguo interrupted him, not wanting to hear anymore.

“Oh no no no, sir,” the teen answered with a dismissive wave of the hand, which had a few metal rings. “I would never refer to him as such, especially when I want to learn to make these medicines. I had asked because I want to take up an apprenticeship with him.”

That made the light brunette raise an eyebrow.

“You want my business partner to teach you how to make medicine?”

“Yes, I’m actually learning to become a doctor for my family. We move around quite a lot and we’ve now just returned to town, so I was hoping to learn some things in case something happens on the road.”

Jianguo could definitely respect this selfless decision of his, yet he couldn’t help but still feel unsettled by the teen’s disposition. Something about him just felt off to him.

“I am in no place to tell you where to find him,” he said cautiously, as if one wrong move would prove to be his undoing. “But he will be returning later today to drop off two kids under my care. If you wish to see him, you’ll have to come back after school hours.”

The stranger shouldn’t know when that was. He hoped that would give Jesse a bit of time to drop off the kids and then get out of the store.

“Is that so?” the teen asked, sounding a little too intrigued to feel normal. “In that case, I’ll stop by this evening so I can meet him. In the meantime…” He scanned the shelves one more time before picking up a box with roses designed on it. “I’ll purchase this rose infuser with lavender. Looks like something that can break even the worst of moods,” he said with a smile.

Somehow, that only made Jianguo feel more... anxious... about the near future.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Manager. I’m going to make my purchase and be out of your hair for the next few hours. Good day,” the youth stated before he walked in the direction of the checkout registers.

The light brunette watched him go, a creeping feeling that wouldn’t go away itching against his spine.

He might just go back to the living quarters for a nap after that little interaction… But something in his gut told him rest would not be so easy to find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We really enjoyed writing this one! Playing with the feelings of the characters is fun! Now fun facts!
> 
> 1)The Chili family has the surname ‘Alegria’, which means “happiness” in Italian. Spicy Red’s name is ‘Scarlet’, enough said. For Creamy White, his name is ‘Jesse’, which means “King” or “God’s gift” depending on the language. Their first names are more common in the Southern states of the US, which is where chili was first made.
> 
> 2)Plum Juice goes by the name ‘Lian’, meaning “lotus, water lily”. His surname ‘Xu’ attributes to his personality meaning “calmly”.
> 
> 4)Hawthorne Ball is named ‘Hua’, a name which means “blossom”. Her surname is ‘Tanghulu’, which is the traditional name hawthorne balls go by in China.
> 
> 5)Pancake is named ‘Ping’, a unisex name for “level, even, peaceful”. Unlike his first name, his last name is derived from Greece, ‘Tagenias’, which is what the Ancient Greeks called pancakes after the Greek word for “frying pan” tagenon.
> 
> 6)Peking Duck’s first name is ‘Jianguo’, a Chinese name meaning “building the country”. His surname, ‘Quanren’, is a reference to Yang Quanren, the guy who developed the hung oven to roast ducks.
> 
> 7)Bamboo Rice has the first name ‘Guiying’, combined with “laurel, cassia, cinnamon” and “flower, petal, brave, hero”. His surname, ‘Mulayari’, is the regional name for bamboo rice in India.
> 
> 9)Yuxiang’s name, ‘Wenxiang’ is a combination of ‘Wen’ meaning “literature, culture, writing” and ‘Xiang’ meaning “good luck, good omen”. Her surname, ‘Sichuan’ is a reference to the place where the chef who invented Yuxiang came from.
> 
> Man, what a list!  
> -Soul_Chicken_Soup
> 
> Spoiler Alert; SoulSoup-Senpai wrote most, if not all of this chapter and I'm just here as the editor now XDD  
> -TSS_AA


	8. Family of Oddities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are now starting to get into the lore of this world, if only a few tidbits! But I'm sure you've been waiting for these characters to appear!
> 
> List of Featured Characters in Order of Appearance:
> 
> Rice: Sheng Dao Red  
> Boston Lobster: Boston Liam Red  
> Zuppa Toscana (SCS's OC): Tullio Florence-Red  
> Pipi Prawn: Xia Red  
> Sweet Tofu: Liu-Wei Han-Red  
> Salty Tofu: Syaoran Han-Red  
> Green Curry: Fern Wan-Red  
> Spicy Gluten: Lienna Latiao-Red  
> Yep, Boston's gang! The two other characters in this are based on the boy and gir avatars for the Master Attendant.

Business meeting hours were always the longest and loudest in a family restaurant known as  _ ‘Beachside Bistro’ _ , which was settled between two hills that separated it from the beach on the other side.  Between 11:00 AM and 6:00 PM was when a lot of companies typically came in for good food, open room to discuss business things, and the service of the sweet family that ran it.

The young waitress, the niece of the couple that owned the bistro, however always felt uncomfortable with all of the eyes of the businessmen on her.

She really was an adorable little thing, barely under 5 feet, with large, harvest-gold eyes and long, voluminous, wispy hair as white as milk that trailed behind her. Her pale skin was accented by a red and white yukata top adorned with yellow and green beads and her yellow skirt that had a scaly aesthetic to it. Around her waist was a simple red thread, which held a wooden spoon with a rice plant design on the handle. On her feet were dainty, red and gold Chinese shoes with a jade bead on the toe. She had several accessories such as the gold leaf crown on her head, a red string bracelet on her left wrist, and yellow string anklet on her right foot.

“Come on, doll, we just want to get to know you,” one of the more sleazy looking men called to her. She cringed in fear and started backing away with the menus in her arms.

“Yeah, we see you here everyday even though you should be in school,” another shady man tacked on. It only made her even more nervous.

But she knew she had to bear it. These men were the ones that made sure her uncle and aunt had food on the table, even though they use most of it on bills to keep the place running and take care of a sick girl like her. They were so kind, and the small girl just wanted to help however she could.

Before she could move back to the men’s table, the front door of the restaurant opened. Her harvest-gold eyes widened, and she felt tears build up in them when she recognized who came in.

A man with very fair skin and white hair that reached the small of his back came in, sharp red eyes scanning the serving area. He was dressed quite unprepared for the weather, but he looked completely fine wearing only a red and black hoodie with yellow drawstrings and designs of golden lobsters on the hem, shoulders and sleeves. His pants were faded jeans with a hole forming on the left knee, and he wore red and white sneakers with gold designs akin to bubbles on the sides.

“Big Brother!” the small girl cried out in joy, dropping all the menus and sprinting to the man. Her strength decided to give out on her when she was so close, but the man reached down and scooped her into his arms before she could fall.

“Oh Sheng, I’ve missed seeing you all these years,” he cooed in her ears, holding the girl in a gentle hug.

The men at the table turned away nervously. If there was one thing that had quickly become common knowledge in this bistro, it’s ‘Don’t hit on the waitress when her  _ very _ physically fit older brother by ten years was home.’

You’re guaranteed a few broken bones later.

Trust us.

“Boston?” a young woman with ash brown hair called in surprise from a door that probably led to the kitchen.

“I’m back, Aunt Margaret, sorry I didn’t contact you and Uncle Bentley as often as I should’ve,” he apologized.

“Oh, that’s right you should be sorry,” she said to him. “Do you know how lonely and worried you made Sheng for the past two years, young man?” There was no anger behind Aunt Margaret's scolding however.

“Aunt Margaret, my Christmas present is here early, let it go,” Sheng told her aunt, hugging her big brother back.

Her words struck a chord in the tall man, and he blinked back some tears as he whispered apologies so sweetly to the girl in his arms.

“I’ll tell Bentley we’re closing early tonight,” Aunt Margaret told the two. “Knowing you, Boston, you haven’t been eating properly for two years.”

“I’ve missed you two and your cooking, too,” the brother threw in before his aunt disappeared behind the door. Sheng chuckled and snuggled deeper into his embrace.

#  🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞

“Boston, you got more soft-hearted than when you left,” a young man with short, ash brown hair joked as he set up one of the family tables in the bistro.

“What are you talking about, Uncle Bentley?” the red-eyed adult questioned.

“You act all tough and short-tempered, and you had a tendency to snap a lot at people, but hearing you practically adopt not just two, but six people into our family just shows how much you’ve softened up.”

“I still can’t believe it,” Aunt Margaret stated. “You’re gone for two years, and suddenly we’re a family of ten when you get back.”

“Ten? But when…?” Sheng started asking when the restaurant door opened.

“Looks like you’ve been doing okay, Sheng,” a young voice called. The little girl’s eyes went straight to a young man that looked back at her with unforgettable green eyes.

“Tullio!” the small girl gasped at the sight of her adopted brother. The last time she had seen the young man was around two years ago, so her memory of him was a little fuzzy. However, it did not stop her from recognizing him the minute she saw his face. The shimmering green eyes and that distinctive scar, a crescent-like shape around his right eye, they had been burned into her mind ever since  _ that _ day.

His long, pale grey hair was pulled back into a ponytail that reached down to his knees with his windswept bangs cupping the left side of his face. He was wearing a thick, brown sweater with cream-colored sleeves that looked a size or two too big on him, and he had a black neck warmer underneath the collar. A green earring shaped like a spinach leaf hung from his left ear, an oversized dark green shirt was bunched at his hips so it was visible under his sweater, his pants were khaki leggings, and he had on knee-high, brown boots with pale gold-colored tassels on the rims.

“Glad you remember one of the new members of the family,” Boston chuckled. “Do you remember Xia too, Sheng?” he asked, a little playfully.

“How  _ is _ Xia?” the girl asked, something about the tone of her voice sounded… pained. “The last time I saw him, he was…” Her eyes watered at the hazy memory, and a whimper escaped her lips. Her brother ran his hand through her hair, trying to calm her down.

“Xia is doing just fine, Sis. And he missed you as much as Tullio and I did,” Boston assured with a smile that held a hint of sadness.

“Speaking of, here he is,” Tullio announced, opening the door for a boy who looked slightly younger than the green-eyed man.

His hair was a sandy brown and fluffy under the hood of his light yellow coat. He still had those sharp yellow eyes, and he had a red and black face mask over the bottom of his face, where Sheng could remember a terrible scar being across his left cheek. Underneath the coat was a peach orange shirt with cream yellow seashell designs on the torso, a bandaged right hand was visible, and the left hand… There was the artificial hand, made of a light alloy and looked like a knight’s gauntlet. His pants were somewhat baggy and grey, and he wore sneakers similar to Boston’s, only peach and black with bronze shrimp designs.

Just one look at him would be enough for anyone to think that he looked to be a shady individual, or just someone you should not mess with in general.

Of course, what happened next opposed his intimidating appearance.

“Xia!” the small girl called out, once again running to the entrance. This time, the person knelt on one knee and held his arms out to catch Sheng.

Xia didn’t say a word as he hugged her tighter than Boston did, but she suddenly felt her shoulder getting wet. Smiling sadly, Sheng did what her oldest brother would do and ran her fingers through his hair.

“Sheng…” His voice was so quiet and shaken. It hurt Sheng’s heart to hear him like this.

“I missed you too, Xia. I was so worried about you.”

“So this is the little sister Big Brother would gush on and on about.” Sheng nearly jumped out of Xia’s arms at the new voice, and her eyes snapped up at two boys about the sandy brunette’s age.

The two looked near identical, only maybe inverses of each other. The only other thing that was a noticeable difference between them was that one had hints of pink and the other had a redder shade. Actually, one of them looked gentler while the other had an aura of mischief.

“Sheng, this is Liu-Wei and his twin brother Syaoran,” Tullio introduced. “They became family a little over a year ago.”

“She looks fine to me,” the red twin commented, not really looking interested. “What illness was it again?”

Sheng already felt uncomfortable with this guy, gripping on Xia’s sleeve. Boston was glaring at the boy, and the relatives were staring in shock.

“Syaoran, show respect to our sister,” the pink twin scolded. “Boston said that’s a sensitive topic.” 

“Right.” His voice and face didn’t give away much, but there did seem to be a hint of regret in his words.

“It takes some time to get used to this brat’s crudeness, I’m afraid,” another new person spoke as he stepped in.

Sheng was a bit unnerved by the white masquerade mask covering his eyes. His long hair was a bright green and wisped out like a fire from his black conductor’s cap with gold-colored thread and red-tinted bill. He was pale skinned in an ensemble of clothes that gave a regal air to him. He had a desert yellow scarf patterned with foreign designs with a black sash over the left of his torso, which didn’t stand out much from his sleek, red-accented black jacket. He had white gloves on his hands, paired with a strange cane that had a black neck and an unusual handle. His pale grey pants looked warm, slightly loose for comfort given the material, and he had black military boots with brown leaf patterns.

“That’s Fern, he sure can cook,” Boston said. “Though not as good as say Liu-Wei or Tullio.”

“Says the brother who somehow managed to turn ripe corn into mush by just putting it in a boiling pot for a minute,” the light greenette pointed out with a playful smile.

The whole family seemed to cringe at the thought.

“Yes, Big Brother never was the best cook,” Sheng muttered in agreement and a small smile.

“Sheng!” said brother cried out in dismay, looking a bit embarrassed… but not actually offended. That did bring a snort of a laugh out of Xia, who put his bandaged hand over his covered mouth.

The door opened once more, and this time a woman stepped inside. She was… Sheng couldn’t find any pleasant words to describe her at first glance. The tight coat she wore was made of red fox fur and swallowed almost her entire form with the exception of her fishnet leggings and orange high-heel shoes at the bottom. She wore too much makeup, in the small girl’s opinion, with a lot of powder and grey-blue eye shadow on her pale face and blood red lipstick applied. She had a mischievous look in her brown eyes, and her bright orange hair was tied up in a fashion Sheng never saw in the bistro.

She almost looked a little too intimidating in Sheng’s opinion. And that’s something, given that she’s unfazed by her very intimidating brother and just-as-intimidating, adopted brunette brother.

“And this is Lienna,” Tullio stated, not really sounding like he was fond of introducing the woman.

“Why, sweet Tullio, you don’t sound so excited for me to meet your sister,” the ginger teased, wagging black-gloved finger at the greynette.

She took off her coat, and Sheng nearly gagged at the scanty outfit underneath. The young girl could not believe anyone would ever have the guts to wear such clothing outside with no shame whatsoever, Sheng found it baffling. The only way she could know that this was what those ‘prostitutes’ wore was from hearing businessmen gossip about them. She just hoped that she would never see it for herself.

Thankfully, she didn’t need to look much longer as Xia shielded her eyes with his hands.

“I told you to wear something appropriate!” Boston snapped, sounding mortified and furious. “How many times do I have to tell you, you hag?!”

“Such words are quite crude from you,” Lienna stated, not even sounding the slightest bit intimidated. In fact, she even chuckled an amused chuckle, as if this was a daily occurance.

Boston was quickly giving frantic, incoherent apologies to his relatives, and Sheng could just see him bowing even with her eyes still covered.

“There’s a guest room upstairs, second door on the left from the stairs,” he hissed, most likely at the ginger. “Change into something that won’t ruin my sister’s innocence any further, you got it?!”

“Alright alright,” Lienna said with an almost light, sing-song tone as Sheng could hear the ginger’s heels clacking away into the distance 

“Crazy lady,” she heard Syaoran mumble in annoyance. As much as Sheng would hate to admit it out loud, she could certainly agree with the younger twin. “Tell me again why you took her in, Big B.”

“Let’s just say Xia and I are indebted to her after an accusation that could’ve put us on death row if she hadn’t stepped in to defend us,” Boston answered with his voice laced with clear exhaustion.

“First degree murder and larceny charges,” Tullio added on, sounding just as drained. “The real culprit was caught later though, thankfully.”

That caused quite a commotion from the relatives, who began bombarding the eldest with questions, and a lot more scolding.

#  🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞

Thankfully, the huge family dinner went without any incidents. It was actually very pleasant to sit down with his precious sister and relatives after being on the road for two years. It felt like a large reunion, as stories of their travels and things happening in this city were passed around with only a few questions here and there.

His old room at the back of the house was just the same as he remembered. Despite the way he carried himself, he was a tidy person, and there wasn’t a book, article of clothing or game case out of place. There was, however, a flower-shaped air freshener on his old desk, most likely put there by Sheng who he learned had been dusting his room for the last two years.

Boston was thankful that he had both a bed and a sofa in his room so that Tullio, who was rooming with him, could have a comfortable place to sleep for the night.

“So this is your room,” the grey-haired brother spoke, looking impressed by the cleanliness. “Sheng did a good job.”

“Everything was already properly put away before we left,” Boston informed.

The room went quiet for a few seconds, until the temperature in the room began to rise at an alarming rate, and Tullio could hear a low growl emitted from Boston.

“All of that… and we’re back where we started,” he said, making a fist.

“Well, it’s been years since we’ve been home, and Sheng was really happy to see us in time for the holidays,” Tullio tried to convince the eldest.

“But two years… and still nothing that can cure Sheng…!” The white-haired brother’s fist slammed against the outer wall in his rage. He finally let it out a little, how angry he actually was, and it took a lot of willpower earlier to not show it in front of his dear sister.

“It’s not like our journey was a complete failure,” Tullio tried again to alleviate his anger. “We met Fern, the twins and Lienna on the way, who believe in the same things we do.”

“They weren’t there though, Tullio. Not that I would wish what happened to the four of us onto them. Because of those humans…” Boston bit his lip. “Dammit, Sheng can’t even pretend to be a normal girl with her condition because of them. She can’t use those powers they implanted in her or else she’d…!” His shoulders started to shake, his head low and his fist on the wall uncurling.

“What they did to us… especially you three… Even though I was already born a witch, I couldn’t…!” His wavering voice fell short, as if he no longer had the strength to go on. The temperature in the room dropped so dramatically that any normal person could tell it wasn’t the AC that kicked in.

There it was, that mix of hatred for the humans that caused this suffering, and the self-hatred of feeling powerless that Boston always tried so hard to conceal from everyone. He could never forgive himself for failing to prevent such a tragic chapter in their family. The... incident... from three years ago.

His mind always looped back to it, no matter how much he wished he could forget it, even for just a few minutes. 

The memory of being taken by those masked men along with his little sister, being strapped to a table while they prodded him with scalpels and took his blood, looking after a torn up Xia and a deeply traumatized Tullio, hearing the cries and screams of the others trapped with them, nearly vomiting at the sight of new corpses being thrown out every few days, trying to care for Sheng when she had been the only one capable of treating his wounds, and the fire that saved them a year after their abduction.

If there was a hero in this chapter, Boston would say it was Tullio, he was certain of that much. He didn’t know all of the details, didn’t pry as it was the most traumatizing part for both his green-eyed brother and Sheng, but he understood that Tullio was the one who ultimately destroyed the labs and the disgusting humans in an inferno akin to arson.

He knew it had to be him, because the survivors of the atrocious experiments all miraculously survived the fire. Additionally, Tullio was the one who saved Sheng when she was at her weakest physically and Boston wasn’t there to protect her.

His inner torment was interrupted by a gentle hand on his back, and he turned to see that horrific scar paired with mourning, green eyes.

“Boston,” Tullio said, his voice sounding so weak, as if it may break any moment.

Boston was at a loss of what to say. It was so easy for him to find the words to scold Lienna and Syaoran, easier to alleviate Liu-Wei and Fern’s itches for unneeded mischief, and it was even easier to speak softly to Xia when the brunette had nightmares of being cut to pieces, but he had no idea of what got through to Tullio when he was like this.

At the very least, he didn’t have night terrors like he used to following their year in captivity. The experiments the humans did on him would make Tullio incomprehensible for hours as he covered his ears and pulled his knees to his chest. Nothing Boston said could get through to him, so he left the reassuring, kind words to his sister whenever the greynette was released from his ‘sessions’. No amount of healing could undo what the humans subjected the poor man to. Even to this day, Boston was clueless in what they were doing to him behind those steel doors.

And as much as he felt it was important for him to understand, another part of him would be too afraid to even think of the answer.

So instead, Boston did the one thing he did best at; he gently ran his fingers through the younger brother’s bangs in a comforting motion, and the green-eyed man laid his head on his shoulder. A choked sob came out of him, prompting Boston to wrap an arm around Tullio to ensure that he would be safe. That his big brother would never let such horrors happen again.

That, silently promising, the man who united this family would bring Hell onto the humans if they should ever lay a finger on any of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to take a darker turn! But for now, name facts!
> 
> 1) Rice’s first name is ‘Sheng’, based on the famous Longsheng rice terraces in Guilin, China. Her middle name ‘Dao’ is the traditional Chinese word for “rice patty”.
> 
> 2) Boston Lobster’s middle name, ‘Liam’, means brave and loyal while his last name is a reference to the restaurant “Red Lobster”.
> 
> 3) Zuppa Toscana’s name, ‘Tullio’, is an Italian name that comes from the latin word tullius, which means “the one who leads” and connects to his abilities. His surname, ‘Florence’ is the name of the Tuscany region’s capital in Italy, in which Tuscany is what “zuppa toscana” is named after.
> 
> 4) Pipi Prawn (Salt n’ Pepper Mantis Shrimp depending on the country) is named 'Xia', the Chinese word for “shrimp”.
> 
> 5) Sweet Tofu’s name, ‘Liu Wei’, means ‘Kill, Destroy’ (Liu) and ‘Power, Pomp, High, Extraordinary’ (Wei). His surname, ‘Han’ is a reference to how tofu-making was first recorded during the Han Dynasty. Other names that were considered for him include Hao (Good; Perfect) and Jia (The outstanding, great person who is everyone's favourite) because they were ironic.
> 
> 6) Salty Tofu’s name, ‘Syaoran’, means ‘He who is like a wolf’. His surname, ‘Han’ is a reference to how tofu-making was first recorded during the Han Dynasty.
> 
> 7) Green Curry’s human name is Fern, for obvious reasons. His surname, ‘Wan’, is a reference to the Thai name for green curry. ‘Wan’ translates to sweet, which actually refers to the colour of the curry and not the taste. An alternate name for Green Curry was Narong (One who always creates war or is ready for war).
> 
> 8) Spicy Gluten’s name, ‘Lienna’, means ‘A beauty and grace of a lotus flower’ while her surname, ‘Latiao’, is a reference to the food’s native name. Other names we were considering for her included Wang Fang (King, Monarch (Wang) Fragrant, Virtuous, Beautiful (Fang)), Wang Xiu (King, Monarch (Wang) Develop, Luxuriant, Beautiful, Elegant, Outstanding (Xiu)), and Li Ming (One who is pretty and bright).
> 
> Are these lists just going to be this big in general?! lol


	9. Three Dragons and a Witch(?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters have been rearranged. Pista's chapter will now be Chapter 10.  
> And now the introduced characters!  
> Longjing Tea: Ling Jiangsu  
> Dragon's Beard Candy: Daiyu Han  
> Dragon & Phoenix: Xiang Longfeng  
> Wuyi Da Hong Pao: Wuyi Fujian  
> Realgar Wine: Ru Xionghuang  
> At least it's shorter than the last three, lol
> 
> (Please leave us comments, it makes our day ;w;)

“This was a terrible idea,” insisted a woman with long, pale hair and equally pale skin. Her sharp golden eyes were filled with disdain and her mouth pulled into a frustrated frown. 

The young woman was dressed in an elegant green and gold Chinese kimono of various shades with matching slippers under a heavy, golden, fur-trimmed winter cloak. To finish her look, her hair was decorated with a small, golden head-dress and in her hands, she held a life-like doll dressed in the colors of brown and gold. Although her cloak and clothes looked warm enough to protect her from chill breezes, she appeared absolutely underdressed for the snowy weather, though it did not appear to bother her one bit.

Despite her obviously displeased expression, one could pick up a trace of nervousness from the way she fiddled with her doll’s strings.

“I understand you want to help him,” the woman continued, “But there’s nothing we can do for someone like that.”

“I know…” a man with long, white hair and pale skin replied. His light green, almost white eyes were overflowing with pity and sorrow. 

The young man was dressed in a long, heavy, Chinese kimono colored in various shades of green, both dark and light, covered under a heavy, green, fur-trimmed cloak.

The man took a long sip from his tea, unable to make eye contact with anyone else in the room.

“But compared to normal human beings, we have a stronger resistance against his radiation,” he argued. “If no one else can do anything about him, then  _ we _ have to.”

There was an audible sigh.

“Look, I know you want to help out, Ling, but what exactly do you expect us to do about the situation?” a man with unruly white hair tried to reason. His red eyes looked clouded in thought.

The man was dressed in a white and black kimono that didn’t look anywhere near warm enough for the weather, with a pair of black slippers, a long glove over his left arm, and a simple red cloak that hung loosely around his body. 

The man sat idly on the shrine’s window sill, staring at the snow-covered world beyond, swinging his legs over the edge as if he were in his own little world, yet responding to the conversation to signify he was indeed listening.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, a small smile came on Ling’s face, almost as if he were scheming.

“As much as I hate to throw you under the bus, Xiang, I think you should be the one to take care of our ‘guest’.”

The unruly-haired male almost fell out of the window.

“Me?! This isn’t because I’m the youngest, is it?!”

“No, it’s not for a petty reason like that,” Ling assured with a nervous laugh. “I’ve simply noticed that you have a greater resistance to him than the rest of us. And besides, you know Zan can’t go anywhere near him.”

“What does that have anything to do with it?”

“He means you’re the most qualified to come close to this… Witch being with the fewest repercussions,” the woman explained. “And besides, Ling’s little rabbit would have to be extra careful around him, and you know Ling hates his little rabbit getting hurt.”

“Daiya!” Ling scolded, however, judging from the tone of his voice, he wasn’t at all upset or offended, perhaps, just embarrassed.

Xiang buried his face in his hands as he exhaled softly.

“What exactly do you want me to do with him?”

“It’s simple!” Ling said with a smile. “All you need to do is help him reconnect with the world outside, as well as find a solution to his radiation.”

“Easier said than done,” Xiang replied, incredibly unamused.

“Now now, it’s impolite to keep our guest waiting,” Daiya said with an incredibly amused smirk. Xiang groaned as his legs swung over the window sill to let him back inside the house.

“I got it, I got it,” he grumbled as he stood up. “The least your guys could do is tell those dolls to clear the shop.”

Ling smiled sweetly in response.

“Will do.”

As the rowdy, white-haired man left the room, Daiya lounged back in her seat.

“Finally, some peace and quiet,” she mused happily as Ling chuckled.

“Now now, Daiya, it’s not nice to say such things behind other people’s backs!” a new voice advised, immediately pulling both Ling and Daiya’s attention towards it.

A dark-haired man stepped inside the room, his hazel eyes full of amusement. The man had on a white yukata with rich, brown accents and over his head was the fur-trimmed hood of a crimson and gold cloak.

“Wuyi!” Ling said, a little surprised due to his friend’s sudden visit. “We did not think you would come by today.”

“What do you mean, Ling? I work here. Of course I would come by.”

“What do you want, Wuyi?” Daiyu said with a hint of annoyance. She had a sneaking suspicion she already knew why Wuyi decided to butt into the conversation now of all times.

“I simply heard you talking about the new boy, who is more like a statue than a living being. Well, a statue that can melt the skin off of you if you touch it.”

“Xiang has the best odds in getting close to him,” Ling stated. 

“If the kid won’t even listen to Ling, then he probably won’t listen to someone like Xiang,” Wuyi groaned. “You only got him here thanks to Ling’s persuasive skills.”

“Ling is the head of our people, Wuyi,” Daiya reminded with stern eyes. “You may be a demi-god of our people, but you have no power over our decisions.”

“Whoa, I’m not challenging anyone’s authority, I was stating a fact.”

*******

With how strongly the young man stared at the snow outside, Xiang thought that he might as well be burning holes into it.

He looked youthful, a young adult with no knowledge of the world, with long black hair falling down his back.

Staring at the frail man in front of him, he couldn’t help but feel a little nervous, a feeling he normally never felt when he faced his enemies. This man, however, was not his enemy, not yet anyway. 

The ravenette in front of him wasn’t quite like anyone he’s ever met before. Was he truly resistant to this boy? How did one talk to someone who likely hadn’t talked to anyone in years themselves?

His mind just came to a blank, the same type of blank his mind would reach if one were to ask him what this man’s name was. Xiang did not know that either.  All he could do was sigh softly as his fingers rubbed against the soft fabric of the neatly folded clothes in his hands.

_ ‘There is no use standing out here forever.’ _

“Hey,” Xiang said as he stepped into the room.

The young ravenette did not look back, his golden eyes still firmly glued to the snow outside the window. Xiang furrowed his brows.

_ ‘Did he not hear me?’ _

“Hey,” he said once more as he stood right behind the man. For what felt like a solid minute, the man did not respond, irritating Xiang a little, but that quickly changed when the young ravenette turned a little, jumping a little when his eyes landed on Xiang’s intimidating figure,  _ he really did not notice Xiang at first _ .

“Here, change into this,” Xiang ordered, cutting straight to the chase as he handed the ravenette a pair of neatly folded clothing; a white sweater with a pale, yellow winter coat, a pair of black pants, winter boots, and gloves, a black scarf, a pale yellow beanie, and a disposable mask.

Even though the clothes had yet to be unfolded, Xiang already had a feeling they would not fit well on the ravenette. 

Xiang was a little nervous. He couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if they made physical contact as well as the speed of which the effects will take place. What surprised him, however, was the fact that the ravenette himself was the one hesitating to take the clothes from Xiang.

Was he really that scary? Xiang sighed as he placed the pile of clothes on the balcony seat next to the ravenette.

“I’ll be outside,” he informed. “Call me back in when you’re done.”

Xiang didn’t leave the room right then, he couldn’t help but stare at the ravenette looking at the clothes on the bench. The young man picked up one of the gloves with unsteady hands that looked ready to drop the article at any moment.

Despite the fact he was dressed in clothes, albeit raggedy and almost too small clothes, Xiang could not help but wonder if the young man even knew  _ how _ to dress himself.

“Do you need help?” he asked with a neutral face.

A part of him wanted to initiate a facepalm. This man did look naive and clueless, but certainly not scared, and if they had gone this whole time without speaking, it would have been safe to assume he couldn’t speak at all.

“There’s no need,” the ravenette said in a chipper voice, catching Xiang completely off-guard. “Ru can do it himself.”

The white-haired man couldn’t help but raise a brow and the ravenette examined the clothes he had been given. Was his name…?

“What’s your name?” he asked, only taking one step back.

“Ru’s name is Ru Xionghuang!” the ravenette answered with a smile. “What about mister? What’s mister’s name?” It took a few seconds for Xiang to realize that the ravenette, Ru, was talking about him. There was a hesitance in the white-haired man’s answer as he approached the door. 

“It’s Xiang,” he answered as he closed the door, leaving Ru to his own devices. The ravenette couldn’t help but hum happily as he stared at the clothes on the bench.

“No one has ever asked Ru if he needs help before!” he said aloud, almost as if someone else besides himself was in the room to listen. “Normally, Ru is left to his own devices...” He stopped talking as he continued to unfold the clothes.

*******

Outside the door, Xiang impatiently tapped his foot on the wooden flooring. Ru was taking a suspiciously long amount of time to change. Why, Xiang himself had the time to change into more weather-and-location-appropriate clothes, get a drink of water, and wait for a few minutes for the ravenette to finish.

Just when the white-haired man was getting ready to knock on the door and barge in, Ru slowly opened the door. Xiang had a feeling the man had a few issues trying to dress himself because even though the clothes Xiang had given had just been neatly washed and folded, the garments already sported wrinkles and a small tear on the coat. The beanie looked a second away from falling off his head and he wasn’t even wearing the disposable mask correctly.

Xiang sighed.

“Here, let me help you with that,” he said as he untied the sloppily worn mask from Ru’s face.

“Ru’s sorry he couldn’t do it well,” the ravenette apologized sheepishly. “Ru has never really worn something like this before.”

“It’s fine,” Xiang curtly answered as he finished the tight knot to keep the mask in place. “Let’s go.” He ushered as he grabbed Ru’s hand to lead him to the door.

Even with the thick layers of clothes the two wore, Xiang could still feel a slight sting radiating from Ru’s hands and feared as to what would happen if a normal human being was the one to grab his hand.

“We’re going to have to establish some rules first,” he said all of a sudden once they reached the door. “First off, you can not wander too far away from me.” Ru nodded in understanding.

“Second of all, you can not touch  _ anything _ .”

“What about Xiang’s hand?”

“Except for that and anything I give you permission to touch,” Xiang continued. “Third and last rule, I want you to avoid talking to anyone you don’t know who hasn’t been introduced to you by me. Got it?”

“Ru understands!” the ravenette replied cheerfully. It was almost unnerving how easily this boy was agreeing to Xiang’s rules. He supposed that Ru wasn’t as scared of him as he thought he was. Perhaps, that might even be a good thing.

He should be happy about that, but as the two stepped out of the shrine, Xiang could only help but feel as if this may be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact Time!  
> 1) Longjing Tea’s first name, ‘Ling’, means ‘Spiritual Being’. His surname, ‘Jiangsu’ is the name of the province where Longjing Tea was invented.
> 
> 2) Dragon’s Beard Candy’s name, ‘Daiyu’, means ‘Black-Coloured Jade’. Her surname is a reference to the Han Dynasty where the practice of making Dragon’s Beard Candy was first practiced.
> 
> 3) Dragon & Phoenix’s first name, ‘Xiang’, is a reference to ‘Xiang Yu’, who was a Chinese king who, in order to celebrate the founding of a new kingdom, called for a “Dragon & Phoenix Feast” for his concubine, Yu. His Surname, Longfeng, is the Chinese name for Dragon & Phoenix.
> 
> 4) Wuyi Da Hing Pao’s first name comes from his actual Food Soul name, but it is also a reference to Wuyi Mountains where the tea was first produced. His surname, ‘Fujian’, is a reference to the province where Wuyi Mountains is located.
> 
> 5) Realgar Wine’s first name, ‘Ru’, means ‘Learner’ and ‘Scholar’. His surname, ‘Xionghuang’ is the Chinese name for Realgar. Another choice for Realgar Wine’s first name was Renshu (Benevolent Forbearance) and Rui (Regal, Famous Ruler, Famous power).


	10. Nuclear Interactions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit short, but we wanted to show the two from before interacting some more.  
> New Character:  
> Cotton Candy Carnival: Cassidy Robbins
> 
> And as you know:  
> Dragon & Phoenix: Xiang Longfeng  
> Realgar Wine: Ru Xionghuang
> 
> (Please leave us food- I mean, comments. Yeah, please leave us comments ;w;)

To be perfectly honest, in Xiang’s opinion, saying that the walk from the shrine to their destination was absolutely nerve-wracking was an absolute understatement.

Normally, he was a very composed and confident individual. However, the entire time he was outside, he felt ready to just pass out or dip out of there.

They were lucky that right now, it was ungodly-o’clock, i.e 5 in the morning, and very few people would willingly leave the comforts of their home right about now. But Xiang swore that every time he and Ru were to pass someone on the street, he could feel himself sweat profusely and his heart growing weak. One could only imagine the white-haired man’s relief when he saw their destination in the distance.

It was a lovely store at the corner of the street with an exterior painted the colors of cotton candy. An overhead sign hung above the door, ‘Eden’s Toy Emporium.’

It was just as the sign said. The store they were approaching was a normal, everyday toy store, at least, that’s what it was to normal everyday people. Xiang knew that this toy store was far more than that to individuals like him. It was a business with the purpose of protecting those referred to as anomalies by humans, and Xiang hoped that maybe, they could somehow help Ru.

“This is the place,” the white-haired male announced as he led Ru to the emporium’s doors.  
The sign hanging on the glass read ‘Closed,’ not that it posed as a problem to Xiang who took his phone out of his pocket.

**XL:** I’m here,  
**XL:** Open up.

“What are Ru and Xiang doing here?” Ru asked curiously.

“Well, if we want to properly re-acquaint you with the world, we need to get you an ID, and something to help suppress your radiation,” he explained as his phone vibrated in his hands.

**CR:** It all started when I was born,  
**XL:** You’re lucky I’m not in the mood to break into the store and shanghai your ass.  
**XL:** It’s five in the morning, I do *not* want to be out here.  
**XL:** So open the door before I break it open.  
**CR:** Eep!  
**CR:** Don’t break it! D:  
**CR:** I’m coming! I’m coming.

With a satisfied smirk, Xiang pocketed his phone away. “Remember the rules?”

“Don’t wander off from Xiang, don’t touch anything Xiang says Ru can’t touch and don’t talk to anyone unless Xiang says Ru can?” Ru recalled as Xiang nodded in confirmation.

“Good. You have my permission to talk to the one we’re about to meet since they will help you out with your… ability.” The younger man nodded in understanding.

A few seconds later, the toy store’s doorknob began to rattle, opening just in time for Ru and Xiang to see an androgynous-looking person on the other side. They were a lot shorter than Xiang and even shorter than Ru. It might even be a fair assumption to assume that they’re a lot younger than them. The teen’s skin was perfect, smooth, and almost porcelain-like under the light, but if you looked close enough, one might be able to see freckles lightly dusted across their face. They also had long, soft-looking lavender hair tied into two twin tails and an alarmingly bright, hot-pink right eye. Their left one was hidden under a pale yellow and pink eyepatch designed to look like a rose. Perhaps some sort of aesthetic? They were dressed in a flowing white blouse with a pale yellow ribbon tied around their neck and an oversized purple sweater big enough to cover even their hands. On their lower half, the teen wore a pair of crisp white jeans and a pair of purple buckled boots.

In truth, they certainly looked underdressed considering the weather outside, but despite that, they didn’t look bothered one bit. With the way they were dressed, one might think they were a doll at first glance.

“Robbins,” Xiang greeted politely.

“Come in!” the teen replied, moving aside to let their guests in.  
Ru’s eyes couldn’t help but wander all around the store. If he thought the outside looked lovely, then the inside looked absolutely incredible! He almost felt as if he had stepped into an entirely new world.

“So, you’re name’s Ru, correct?” the lavender-haired teen asked. “I’ve heard of you from Mr. Ling, the name’s Cassidy Robbins!” They gave a cheerful smile, holding their sleeved hand out to Ru for a handshake. Thankfully, Ru hesitated long enough for Xiang to interject.

“I wouldn’t make physical contact just yet, his radiation still affects even me.”

“I’m technically not alive, so it won’t really bother me!”

“Fair enough… I guess,” Xiang replied with a shrug. “Anyways, where’s Acolman?”

“Perlita? She’s… doing things,” Cassidy replied dismissively. It sounded just as suspicious as it looked, but what Cassidy and their friend did in their free time was not the reason why Xiang was here at five in the morning, so he let it slide, for now.

“Anywho, y’all are here to see if we can do something about Mr. Ru’s radiation, correct?”

“That is correct,” Xiang confirmed.

“Alrighty then. So first, I’m going to have to measure the strength of Mr Ru’s radiation in order to determine how strong we should make the suit… as well as the normal measurements and stuff.”

“Suit?” Ru asked curiously.

“Yep!” Cassidy exclaimed as they pulled out a long measuring tape.

“In order to contain the natural radiation your body emanates, we have come up with the idea of creating a skin-tight suit to go under your clothing. That way, it can contain the radiation and at the same time, you will get a lot less weird looks. The suit will look a lot like a wet-suit, except thinner, and a lot more comfortable… hopefully.” The shop owner began measuring the length of Ru’s body with the tape measurer they pulled out of their pocket. “Our real issue right now is containing the carbon dioxide he breaths out.”

“I see…” Xiang replied. “What exactly do you have planned?” Cassidy shrugged.  
“As much as I don’t want to cover that pretty, young face of his, a filtered mask will have to do for now. Our best bet to avoid unwanted stares is to disguise it as some sort of cold mask, with the excuse that he gets sick easily.” Cassidy kept eye contact between writing down Ru’s measurements as they took them and scribbling design ideas on another paper.

“Where exactly did two high school students such as yourselves get the equipment to make such creations?” Xiang inquired as Cassidy laughed.

“Must we remind you again, Mr Xiang? Perlita and I are geniuses. Prodigies even!”

“Right.” He didn’t sound convinced at all.

“Um, how much longer does Ru need to stand still?” Ru asked, feeling his limbs get a bit stiff.

“Just a little longer. All I need now is your foot measurements so that the boots aren’t pinching your feet when you’re walking.” Cassidy stepped away for a moment to grab a foot scale and brought it over to Ru. “Just put your heel against this metal part here, and I will handle the rest.”

“But Ru was told not to touch anything without permission,” the client said.

“It’s alright, this is for feet in particular,” Xiang assured. “You need to take off your shoes for proper measurements.”

“Ru understands then!” the ravenette replied as he proceeded to remove his right shoe. Cassidy lined up the arrow with the tip of Ru’s toes.

“Size 6, damn you have small feet!” they exclaimed with a laugh. “That’s the smallest men size there is! In EU, that is!” Xiang gave a small snort, amused by the fact. That would explain why Ru had a bit of trouble walking in those borrowed shoes.

“Okay, all we have left to do now is to measure the strength of your radiation and after that, my friend and I can finally get started on the suit!” Cassidy announced. “After that, all there is left to do is to register Mister Ru into the system and then he’ll be good to go!”

“How are you going to measure that?”

“Easy! Be right back!” The lavender-haired teen ran behind the door to the backroom. There was the sound of things being moved and a few crashes until they finally came out with a thick block of black material.

“This is a way to test the levels of radiation, see if it goes through this thick lead.”

“You have permission to touch that, Ru,” the older man informed the ravenette. The younger man nodded in understanding as he slipped off the glove, and he reached out onto the lead.

In a matter of a few seconds, the entire block instantly had a hole in the shape of his lithe hand on its face. Ru immediately pulled away, staring at his bare hand with wide eyes, unable to comprehend the sudden strength.

“Wow! Your radiation is a lot stronger than I first thought!” Cassidy exclaimed. “Looks like I’ll have to bust out the stronger stuff. Wait right here!” Immediately after, the shopkeeper ran back through the door of the back room.

Xiang sighed for the umpteenth time that morning. Sometimes, he couldn’t believe this scatterbrained kid was one of the owners of a business as significant as this one. He supposed it had something to do with Cassidy’s behaviour and the fact they acted like a normal, everyday teenager, albeit somewhat aloof in more ways than one, but Xiang knew a lot better.

He’s aware that Cassidy’s not human.

“Ru thinks Cassidy’s nice!” the ravenette said in an attempt to fill in the silence.

“They are, I suppose,” Xiang replied, listening carefully as the shopkeeper caused a racket in the back.

“Can Ru ask Xiang a question?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Is Cassidy like us?” Ru asked innocently.It took Xiang a few seconds to realize that Ru was asking if the lavender teen was an anomaly as well. He nodded.  
“Cassidy’s a doll.”

The way Ru cocked his head innocently to the side made Xiang almost forget that he was talking to a possibly-twenty-year-old and not a child.

“A doll?” the ravenette asked. “Like the ones on that shelf?” Ru pointed at a shelf-full of dolls in the corner of the room. Some were adorable, stuffed plushies of animals, others were of the plastic variety most young children went for, and then there were some carefully crafted porcelain dolls with soft-looking locks and carefully hand-sewn clothes.  
With the way the shopkeeper looked and dressed, if they sat still enough, one might assume they were a life-sized version of one of those porcelain dolls.

“Sort of, but dolls like Cassidy are a more special case than these lifeless ones around us,” he explained, but before Ru could reply, they were met by a cheerful voice.

“I’m baaaaack!” Speak of the devil and here they came back with an even thicker block of lead in their sleeved arms. “This one is four times as thick as the last one, a lot more compacted too!”

“And if that’s the same result?”

“Then we’ll just keep trying with even thicker blocks!”

The only thing going through Xiang’s mind as he sighed, even more, was the question of how many times that would be, but Cassidy seemed determined to make it work.

This could certainly take a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cotton Candy Carnival’s name, ‘Cassidy’, means ‘The curly haired one’ or ‘Descendent of Caiside’. Their surname, ‘Robbins’, is a reference to Baskin Robbins, the ice cream store AA had Cotton Candy Carnival at.


	11. Gang's All Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These lists keep getting longer! Thankfully, next chapter will have a smaller cast!
> 
> List of Featured Characters by Appearance:
> 
> Pizza: Pista Esposito-Lagana
> 
> Margarita: Blythe Cooper
> 
> Borscht: Bohdana Uszka
> 
> Pasta (Sound's OC): Pia Cavatelli
> 
> Black Pudding: Olivia Casey
> 
> Stargazey Pie: Nichola Cornwall
> 
> Oyster: Javier Devon
> 
> Spaghetti: Salvatore Lagana
> 
> Cassata: Cassiano Palermo
> 
> Cheese: Chesney Asiago
> 
> Sakuramochi: Saki Hanami
> 
> Sanma: Shun Shioyaki
> 
> Phew! That's all of them for this chapter!

_ The heat of the flames made him sweat profusely. The tendrils of red and orange reached out to pull him into the inferno, threatening to burn him alive. In terror, the blonde ran as fast as his legs could carry him. _

_ He needed to leave, _

_ He needed to escape, _

_ No matter the costs. _

_ Before he realized it, something grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back, causing the boy to let out a scream. He dared to look over his shoulder, and he came face to face with a monstrous shadow with a pair of glasses over sinister white eyes. The shadow was laughing maliciously, as the flames licked at his knees and threatened to consume him- _

The pale blonde shot up in his bed with a blood curdling scream, hair matted to his face from the sweat that’s dripping down his face and soaked his nightshirt. His breaths were uneven as he clutched his covers so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Unconsciously, as if by habit, he closed his right eye.

_ ‘That nightmare again…’ _ he realized with a wince.

The boy reached over to the blue and gold lamp on his nightstand and pulled the little switch, lighting up the room in a matter of seconds. Charging nearby was his phone in its red, green and yellow-checkered phone case, and he picked it up to check the time. 5:20 AM, just ten minutes before his weekday alarm.

Well, no point in going back to sleep. Not that he could whenever he had that nightmare anyway. Hoping that his scream hadn’t awakened anyone yet, the teen silently climbed out of his tomato and mushroom-patterned covers and made his way towards the closet on the other side of his bedroom.

He fell into his usual school day rhythm, pulling out his white and maroon school uniform from where it hung in the closet, draped it over his arm and headed to his personal bathroom after turning on the light. The pale blonde hung his uniform on the nearby towel hook and grabbed a washcloth from his shelf of toiletries.

He looked at himself in the large mirror that took up much of the wall over the sink, messy, pale blonde hair in a tangle paired up with pale skin and a sea green left eye that looked too empty for anyone his age. On the other hand, his right one was entirely blank, just a milky, chilling, white sclera stared right back at him.

The boy ran the washcloth under warm water from the sink, and he scrubbed his sweaty face with the fabric. After a couple of minutes, he rinsed the small towel out before straining it and hanging it on the bathtub railing. 

Afterwards, he picked up the comb from the countertop and made work in getting the tangles out of his hair. Once that was done, the boy took a good size of his locks and wove them into a simple braid held by a thin, red ribbon with blank, gold checker patterns on it, a special gift he had received months ago.

Now that his face looked decent enough, the boy pulled off his damp pajamas and started getting dressed in his school uniform. 

First, he slipped on a pair of maroon pants followed by white socks. Afterwards, he put on a white button-up shirt with a yellow sweater vest and tucked in his black tie. When he put on his maroon blazer, he left it open and adjusted the bright red band with a white crown motif on the left sleeve before nodding to himself through the mirror, satisfied with his appearance.

His morning trance was broken by the echoes of someone knocking on his bedroom door. The boy instantly left the bathroom and opened the door to the hallway.

“Good morning, Pista,” a blonde-haired woman, barely older than himself, greeted him with a warm smile.

This woman was dressed like a cross of a maid and an idol, with her wavy hair up in a side ponytail with a lime hairpin and matching ribbon and her lightly tanned skin brought out her bright green eyes and natural pink lips. Her white button-up blouse hugged her features in just the right places, paired with a black and green waistcoat and a green pleated skirt. Around her waist was a white apron with a lime motif on the bottom right, and she had black fingerless gloves on her hands. The woman, additionally, wore a pair of knee-high, brown riding boots with her white socks folded over.

“Morning, Blythe,” Pista answered. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Nonsense, I was actually coming to wake you. But you’re already awake, of course. Miss Uszka is almost done making breakfast.”

“Miss Uszka is here? But I thought she had to open early today,” the pale blonde asked, a little confused.

“That’s only every other Thursday morning, which this is not one of those Thursday mornings, and so she’s here making breakfast.”

“Oh. Right,” Pista replied, sheepishly.

“You better hurry to the dining room if you hope to beat your father and Javier to the table,” Blythe playfully told the high school student. “I’m going to wake Miss Casey and Nichola now,” she continued as she turned to walk away.

“And Pia?” Pista asked before she left.

“He’s assisting Miss Uszka in the kitchen. I’ll see you at the table, and don’t forget your patch,” she quipped as she went down the hall.

Oh right, he couldn’t believe he had forgotten. Pista immediately rushed back into his bedroom and pulled out a medical eye patch that had fallen between his pillows. He slipped it over his right eye in routine and then unplugged his phone from its charger. After pocketing the device, he made the short walk down the opposite hall Blythe had gone through and proceeded to descend down a tall flight of stairs to the dining room near the bottom.

The mouthwatering scent of herbs, bacon, bread and cinnamon hit Pista like a truck the second he stepped into the dinette. The pale blonde had to wipe away a bit of saliva that escaped through the corner of his mouth.

If Miss Uszka wasn’t running her own bar already, Pista would’ve begged his father to hire her as the chef.

A woman with long, braided, sandy blonde hair came in through the traffic doors leading to the kitchen, pushing a cart with several platters. Her pink and white dress was spotless compared to the few spots of flour and cinnamon on her frilly apron. She had on her signature pink bonnet with the translucent veil in the back and the yellow and red flower ornaments fitted on her head, and underneath her dress, she wore a white, high-collared shirt.

“Ah,  _ dobroye utro malysh _ ,” the woman greeted the pale pale blonde. “You’re up early, but then again, that is as expected from a member of the student council.”

“Good morning, Miss Uszka,” Pista replied. “Thank you again for breakfast.”

“Thank your  _ papa _ for lending me his butler to assist me. He’s the only one able to keep up with me, after all,” she stated with a giggle.

Speaking of the butler, an androgynous looking man came out of the kitchen with another cart. He had a pair of bright amber eyes, sunkissed skin, and long, blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail with a long, cherry-red ribbon.

He was dressed in a crisp white button-down under a green vest and a sleeveless, pale yellow tailcoat. Around his neck, a red ribbon was tied while around his waist, a white apron covered in hints of cinnamon hung. On their lower-half, they wore a pair of black dress pants with matching shoes.

The expression on their face appeared to lack any and all emotions. However, upon seeing Pista in the room, the young man gave him a small smile and a nod of acknowledgment.

“The others will be down soon,” the young butler informed in a hushed voice as he and Miss Uszka began setting plates and mugs onto the large dining table. “In the meantime, I don’t believe they’ll mind if you start breakfast first. You have to be at a council meeting this morning, correct, Young Master?” The butler fixed a misaligned fork on the table.

“Pia, you’re around the same age as me, and as I’ve said so many times already,” Pista spoke as he sat down in one of the cushioned chairs at the large dining room table. “Just call me Pista.” The young butler, Pia, gave him a small smile before shaking his head.

“As tempting of an offer that is, I must decline.”

Pista simply pouted in response. This brought out an amused chuckle from Uszka just before two dark-haired girls walked in from the hall.

“Good morning, Madame Olivia and Miss Cornwall,” Pia greeted with a polite bow.

One girl looked about Pia’s age, but had a darker complexion with dark red eyes and red-tinted black hair with two small braids forming a crown of sorts on her head. The braids were held by a black and red-striped ribbon. She was dressed in a simple fashion of a red and pale pink dirndl with white thigh-high socks and black mary janes.

The other was much paler and about as old as Pista. Her long black hair was pinned back on the left with ruby studded hairpins, and her tired eyes were of the color of smoke and ash. She was dressed in a similar attire to the pale blonde, except of course she had the pleated skirt, which had a tasteful maroon and pink combo, and she wore the standard sailor blouse underneath her blazer. Around her neck was a thick, choker-like maroon ribbon. Her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, giving full view of the cinnabar bracelets on her wrists. She had on black knee-high socks and the standard brown school shoes.

“Morning~” ‘Cornwall’ greeted with a tired yawn, as if she might suddenly fall back to sleep on the very spot she stood on.

“Greetings,” Olivia added on, hands hovering around Cornwall in case the other girl were to suddenly collapse. “I’m afraid Lady Nichola had stayed up on her studies again last night.”

“Oh my, hasn’t Salvy told you so many times that you need to catch up on your sleep, dear?” Miss Uszka scolded, but softly. “At this rate, you’ll end up in the nurse’s office again.”

“I know, I know,” Nicholia replied, though something about the tone of her voice made Pista think she wasn’t entirely listening to Miss Uszka.

“Let’s sit down for our breakfast, Lady Nichola,” Olivia spoke softly to the exhausted girl. As she led the young ravenette to the table, she turned to Pia. “Could you get her special “Pick-me-Up” Earl Grey please, Pia? And probably put some in a thermos for her to take to school this morning?”

“Right away,” he replied with a bow before he absconded back to the kitchen.

In the meantime, Pista began to place some of the delicious, warm food on his plate as Olivia did the same but for Nichola first.

A loud yawn sounded through the room, and the pale blonde turned to the entryway once again. This time, there was a boy the same age as Pista, even with the same complexion, only with pale blue-violet hair and sharp eyes the same color, one which the boy rubbed. Unlike Pista, however, he was dressed in a white hoodie with dark grey seaweed patterns from the hem to his collar and black cuffs, pale purple sweatpants and black slippers. If his sleeves fell a little, one could see the periwinkle colored ribbon around his right wrist.

“Morning Javier!” the pale blonde greeted warmly.

“Greetings Javier,” Olivia said.

“Hey,” Nichola greeted not so enthusiastically in her state.

“Would all of you please not talk to me before I actually get food in my system?” the boy grumbled tiredly as he dragged himself to the chair next to Pista. If he hadn’t been getting himself some food, Pista would have worried that he too would have fallen asleep.

“Did you stay up late again?” Pista questioned with a cocked eyebrow.

“What does it look like?” Javier said with an unamused glare. He was quickly filling up his plate, taking some bites from almost each plate, which earned him glares from Miss Uszka and Olivia.

“Morning everyone,” a mature man’s voice said. Pista instantly brightened when he saw the man coming and sitting down in the chair on the other side of him.

His bright, brushed-down red hair was practically shining under the light of the chandelier above, and his lilac eyes, which displayed coldness to outsiders, were warm and comforting to the people in his care. He was dressed regally in his white pinstripe dress shirt and ruby brooch under a dark red waistcoat with gold hair-like designs. The white suit he wore bore intricate yellow designs on the lapels that matched the white slacks and black dress shoes he had on.

“Good morning, Father,” Pista greeted with a smile as the man ruffled the boy’s blonde hair.

“Now, why is the master of the house the last one to breakfast this time?” Miss Uszka teased.

“Not quite, Bohdana, I asked Blythe to fetch something from my room,” the man corrected.

“Good morning, Master Salvatore,” Pia greeted as he stepped out of the kitchen and then bowed to the man while pushing a smaller cart of several teacups and three teapots. “I have made Miss Cornwall’s ‘Pick-me-Up’ Earl Grey and prepared a to-go thermos, Lord Devon’s Spicy Ceylon, and your black tea with milk this morning.” The butler began pouring tea into delicate teacups before placing them down in front of their designated drinker.

“Thank you, Pia,” Salvatore replied to his personal butler. “You can sit and join us now, unless you wish to wait for Blythe.”

“I suppose I shall go fetch Miss Cooper first then.” He bowed politely to the master. “If you would please excuse me.” Pia walked away to the hallway, and everyone could hear the footsteps going up the stairs.

Small talk was passed around the table after a few minutes for Nichola and Javier to wake up thoroughly. Pista then glanced at the clock in the corner of the room, and his face instantly paled.

“Crap, I’m going to be late!” he shouted in dismay. The pale blonde daintily but hurriedly finished up the scrambled eggs on his plate and pushed his chair out to move away from the table. Before leaving the room, he snagged a piece of bacon and let it hang from his mouth as he ran for the stairs to fetch his schoolbag.

Thankfully, Pista didn’t run into Blythe or Pia as he went into his room and grabbed his bag by his bed. He finished his bacon by the time he was back down the stairs, but he was surprised to see his father at the front door.

“Allow me the courtesy of driving you to school for once, Pista,” Salvatore requested.

“But Father, aren’t you busy today?” the pale blonde asked as he slipped on his shoes.

“Nonsense, I have an audience with  _ M. _ Beaumont on political matters, so I will be going there anyway,” his father reassured as he opened the door.

Pista once again smiled, relieved that this wouldn’t interfere with his father’s work. The two stepped out the door, the redhead shutting it after them.

🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕

There was a single school in this massive city, and it was miraculously able to hold all of the children in the urban world from their Kindergarten/grade school years to their high school years. 

In all honesty, outsiders thought it looked more like a castle than a school with its gargantuan size, sand-colored walls and large collection of long, gold banners with a logo resembling a flying fish. To add on to that factor, the school had several towers with four different colored flags in various shades of green, red, blue, and purple flying proudly above, and within the building’s center was a gigantic glass dome depicting a garden at its base.

The curriculum of the school was much higher than some schools outside the city, but the statistics proved a high graduation rate and many of the graduated students went off and became successful people in their own unique ways. The one drawback was that very few people from outside the city could even hope to enroll because the school was already handling the huge population of kids in the city alone.

Even so, it looked like it would be an easy feat for those who were returning to their hometown to go back to the magnificent Tierra Academy, as evident with a boy who gazed at the structure with a look of reminiscence.

His skin was gently tanned and his eyes were of a rose gold shade, and his light red hair was held back with a yellow and brown headband. He had the standard brown leather school bag at his side, laying against the pants of his uniform. Although he kept the standard high school dress code, he had the tweak of a green and grey scarf around his neck, a yellow turtleneck underneath the maroon blazer, and a beaded bracelet that looked like it had been repaired several times over the years was wrapped around his left wrist.

Although the youth was happy to be back, he couldn’t sway the sadness that went through him as he walked across the beautiful, colorful mosaic of a walkway to the front doors. It felt as if he hadn’t roamed these halls since forever, even though it really had only been ten years. To think that the only reason he was back was all thanks to his family having to move back here because the company his dad worked for outside the city laid off a lot of their workers, and the open jobs here were something to fall back on.

The redhead reached for the massive doors of the school, and he pulled the long, gold handle back. The door opened without any trouble, and an incoherent flood of voices came out like a dam breaking from the force. That should prove enough how crowded this school was.

A lot of the students who were gathered and chatting to their hearts’ content in the lobby were in high schoolers judging by the distinct symbol on the back of all the school blazers, a different motif for grade, junior, and high school levels, with the high school ones having a gold foxtail millet symbol with a geometric design beneath it. Upon further inspection, there were also some junior high school kids in the large crowd, based on the silver cornstalk with wispy designs on their uniforms, and at least a few of the older students had a grade schooler sticking to their sides like glue judging by the bronze pomegranate with spotty designs the young ones had.

Amongst the bustling crowd of kids, there was one person who caught the boy’s eyes without fail. Even though it had been ten years, he could never, NEVER forget that sweet face of a dear old friend of his.

She was a little younger than he was, with long, fluffy blonde hair that fell behind her, big rose pink eyes like the eyes of a mouse and fair skin. The cornstalk on her blazer indicated that she still had a bit more to go before she’d be an official high school student like himself. She only had the blazer though, as it was paired with a royal blue skirt, white leggings and white and blue mary janes.

The girl turned a little, letting him catch a glimpse at her front. It was a beautiful, white satin top with translucent yellow and blue materials layered over the chest area and musical bar designs near the hem with music notes dotting across them.

She always did have a flair to herself, being the daughter of one of the richest people in the city.

Then, she glanced in his direction, and her eyes widened even bigger. The girl pardoned herself from the other students she was talking to before she immediately began to weave through the bustling crowd just to reach him.

“Cassiano?!” the fluffy blonde gasped in complete surprise, looking as if she were on the brink of exploding in happiness, and tears. Tears of happiness, of course.

“Chesney, I knew it was you!” the light redhead cheered.

The junior high student made a squeal of uncontrolled joy, and she pulled her senior into a bone crushing hug.

“Cassi, you’re really back!” she cheered. A few heads turned in their direction, wondering what the excitement was about, but losing their interest just as fast. “I’ve really missed you! Ten years felt like ten centuries with you gone!”

“I’ve… missed you… too…!” Cassiano choked out, quickly losing oxygen in his lungs. “Please… let go…! Ches…!”

“Oh!” The younger student immediately released the redhead, and the poor boy was quickly gasping in air. “I’m sorry, Cassi.”

“At least you… still have that incredulous strength of yours,” he commented after regaining his breath. “You still taking those fencing lessons?”

“Yep,” she answered with a cheerful grin. “And Mr. Sette is  _ sette _ on making it hell for us moving up to high school.” She laughed nervously when Cassiano stared at her disapprovingly for that pun. “He himself swore on that.”

“He’s still the fencing teacher? What about Mr. Radegast?”

“Still the head History teacher for all ages,” Chesney replied like it was normal. “Oh, and do you remember our high school upperclassmen, Theo- _ chan _ and Shun- _ senpai _ ? They’re now the grade school coach and the high school Homeroom/English teacher here.”

“Seriously? Then what about  _ M. _ Beaumont?”

“Promoted to Principal just four years ago.”

Now that made Cassiano shiver.

“Oh boy, how many suspensions has the guy given since being in office?” he asked nervously, knowing the man’s reputation back when he was vice principal.

“There’s rumors saying at most 40 times a year,” Chesney replied with a shiver. “And that’s nothing compared to the number of detentions he’s said to give out. At least 330 high school students and 180 junior high school students. He’s generous to the grade school kids, at the very least.” Yep, still the ruthless man that Cassiano remembered.

A bell suddenly started ringing, and the throng of students in the lobby began to frantically disperse down hallways and through doors.

“I’ll see you at the lunch break,” Chesney said to her senior, giving him a gentler hug this time. “I’m so happy to see you again.”

“I’m happy to see you too, Ches. I’ll see you soon,” he replied before she let go. After a moment, the fluffy blonde took off down one of the corridors heading to the junior high part of the massive building.

Now, Cassiano had to figure out how to not get lost in the high school branch of this castle of education, and he could feel himself sweat in anxiety of even attempting to navigate through a territory he had never been to.

“Excuse me, are you new?” The redhead jumped in surprise at the voice of a young girl. 

He quickly turned, and he saw a student with fair skin, long, pink hair with a red bow in the back, and pink eyes coming up to him. She wore the default maroon sweater vest with the sailor blouse that matched the skirt under her blazer, and there was a green band with white flower motif pinned to the left sleeve.

“Um, yes, my family just moved back into town,” Cassiano explained. “It’s been some years and I haven’t been in the high school section before, so…”

“It’s alright,” the pinkette assured with a friendly smile. “If you have your schedule, I can help you get to your first class.” Her eyes looked him over for a few seconds, and she gave a small gasp.

“You’re Cassiano- _ senpai _ , right? The one who always hung out with Chesney?”

Now that he was getting a better look at her, the pink hair brought someone up in his mind.

“Saki?” he asked, a little shocked.

“I can’t believe you’re back!” she said happily, walking up closer to him and giving him a gentle hug. “The other  _ senpais _ were not the same without you around, and Chesney was sad for a long time.”

“I missed being here, and so some things have completely changed while I was away. Like  _ M. _ Beaumont becoming the Principal,” Cassiano replied with a sad smile, still internally cringing at the last piece of information. He then focused on the arm band Saki had. “Are you now on the Health Committee, Saki?”

“Yes, I am actually head of the Health Committee after the previous graduated last year!” the pinkette confirmed with joy. “The vote was actually very unanimous, and I became the youngest committee head they’ve ever had!”

“Wow, congrats!” Cassiano replied, impressed, but not surprised. Saki always did have a talent in treating people’s wounds or woes, even as a grade school student, it just seemed to come so naturally to his lowerclassman.

Heck, he could even remember how the upperclassmen would call her  _ ‘The Sakura Angel’ _ back when they were in grade school.

“Thank you!” she replied with a small giggle. “Now that we’re caught up, would you tell me where your first class is,  _ senpai _ ?”

“Oh, right!” The redhead was so into reconnecting with the younger student, he had completely forgotten his objective. “I have English first, followed by Homeroom, D-Class 2.”

“Wow, you have Shioyaki- _ senpai _ first!” Saki said excitedly. “I’m sure you remember him, Cassiano- _ senpai _ !”

Well, that made things feel a bit awkward for the redhead. He tried to keep his mind calm, after all he was going to see another familiar face after all these years. It would just be like old times… But a part of him wondered, would Shioyaki still be the same way Cassiano remembered him to be, or would he too have changed over the course of time?

🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕🍕

“Here is D-Class 2, Cassiano- _ senpai _ ,” Saki informed her upperclassman when they stopped at one of the doors in a part of the building far from the lobby.

“Thank you, Saki,” the redhead replied with a smile. “I suppose I’ll see you later?”

“Yes, we share the lunch break with the junior high branch, so I will be seeing both you and Chesney then.” she replied. “Later!” And with that, Saki walked down the hall, soon disappearing behind the corner, leaving Cassiano on his own once more.

He sighed.

_ ‘Here goes nothing,’ _ he thought as he pushed the door open.

The classroom was pretty filled up with at least 20 or so students already seated and socializing with each other. Even so, there were a few vacant seats left.

At the very front of the room was a young man that one wouldn’t believe was actually the teacher for this class. 

He had pale grey hair pulled back in a simple ponytail, soft brown eyes, fair skin, and a white nasal strip across his nose. He was wearing the maroon shirt and white tie that all teachers were required to wear, but instead of a black jacket, he had on a grey-blue haori with ocean wave patterns on the sleeves and hems and a crest that looked like a fish. On his lower half, he wore a pair of black hakama pants and a pair of tabi shoes instead of business shoes.

The teacher’s desk was covered in cat motifs and figurines, all of them in different colors and styles. 

That in itself was enough proof to Cassiano that Shun Shioyaki hadn’t changed all that much.

The young man turned to see who had entered the room, and his eyes widened slightly. Cassiano stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. None of the students looked away from their conversations with everyone else. Then, the teacher gave a small smile to the redhead. Looks like he had recognized him too.

The teacher raised his hands and gave a few claps, which gave him the attention of the students.

“Everyone, we have a new student who will be joining us for the rest or your remaining years here,” Shun announced. “He has returned after many years, so I’m sure some of you might recognize him.” The man motioned to Cassiano to step to the front so everyone could see him.

Some of the students were people the returnee recognized, and a few others were gasping in surprised or their eyes widened. But there, in the very front, a pale blonde boy with the band of the student council was sitting unfazed.

The same couldn’t be said for Cassiano, who looked straight at the teen with a pale face and eyes that trembled with denial as if he had gone insane.

_ ‘It can’t be…! It’s impossible…!’ _ he thought frantically. He did a double check of the boy’s features, from the pale blonde hair, the green eye, the eye patch, and his face as a whole.  _ ‘Pista died that night…! He died ten years ago in that fire…! It can’t be him!’ _

Cassiano’s head suddenly felt a whole lot lighter, like he might pass out on the spot, and maybe, he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now the fun facts!
> 
> 1) Pizza's middle name belongs to Raffaele Esposito, the man who was given credit for creating the first modern pizza, also known as 'Pizza Pie'.
> 
> 2) Margarita is named Blythe Cooper, ‘Blythe’ as a name that means “happy, carefree” and Cooper as an English surname based on people who make barrels.
> 
> 3) Borscht’s name, ‘Bohdana’, means ‘Given by God’ while her surname, ‘Uszka’, is a reference to a dumpling of the same name that is commonly used as a side dish for Borscht.
> 
> 4) Pasta’s human name, ‘Pia’, means ‘devout’ and ‘pious’, it was also the nickname my family called me when I was younger. An alternate name for Pasta was Patrizia (Noble). His surname is a reference to a type of pasta made from eggless semolina dough that looks like miniature hot dog buns and commonly cooked with garlic and broccoli or broccoli rabe.
> 
> 5) Black Pudding goes by ‘Olivia, meaning “olive tree”. Her last name Casey is an Irish surname meaning “vigilant, watchful”.
> 
> 6) The human name for Stargazey Pie, ‘Nichola’ is a traditional British name which is the feminine form of Nicholas, which means “victory of the people”. Her surname is ‘Cornwall’, the origins of stargazey pie.
> 
> 7) Oyster has a Spanish first name and a Jamaican patois surname because of the spread of oyster habitats, though these are names one can find in the Caribbean. His first name, ‘Javier’, is the Spanish form of ‘Xavier’, which derives from the Basque name Etxeberria meaning “the new house.” His surname is ‘Devon’, which means “warrior of god.”
> 
> 8) Spaghetti’s first name is ‘Salvatore’, an Italian name meaning “savior” based on him saving people from unfortunate circumstances in his background even if it’s for his own benefit. His surname, ‘Lagana’, is tribute to the fried dough that is believed to be the ancestor of modern day pasta.
> 
> 9) Cassata's name, ‘Cassiano’, means ‘Man of Heart’ while his last name is a reference to Palermo, the place where Cassata was said to originate from. 
> 
> 10) Cheese’s name, ‘Chesney’, means ‘Oak Wood’ or ‘Oak Grove’. It was the name I gave her in Sound’s other Food Fantasy story, ‘Your World’, which, at the time, was only chose because it sounded a little like cheese. Her surname, ‘Asagio’, is a reference to a brand of cheese from Italy that dates back hundreds of years. Another name that was considered for Cheese was Allegra (Cheerful & Lively).
> 
> 11) Sakuramochi’s surname, ‘Hanami’, is a reference to the Japanese custom Hanami, where sakuramochi is most often consumed. Her first name ‘Saki’ is a common name which means “blossom, bloom”.
> 
> 12) Sanma is named 'Shun' for "fast". His surname is self-explanatory.


	12. The Alliance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> List of Featured Characters in Order of Appearance:
> 
> Champagne: Charlemagne “Charles” Beaumont  
> Swordfish Steak (Soul_Chicke_Soup-Senpai's OC uwu): Sven Esprit  
> Spaghetti: Salvatore Lagana  
> Croissant: Chapelle Viennoiserie

At Tierra Academy, the obvious answer to who rules the school was the principal. And he wasn’t just any principal, mind you.

This man was one of the most influential politicians in Tierra City, known as the ‘King of Order.’ His position came from bringing the people’s wishes for order and justice into reality and his own desire for the city to prosper through the new generations. Which was why although he was wealthy in the political world, he worked with education and the growth of the school’s students.

Of course, being such a powerful man had its dangers. The politician would be constantly targeted for assassinations from crime bosses and more corrupt people who didn’t want his influence in the system. The very fact that others would turn to such dirty criminals for murder simply disgusted the very man they wanted dead.

Unfortunately for those black-hearted mongrels, the ‘King of Order’ normally had his faithful bodyguard glued at the hip. The loyal man would even accompany his boss in the school, in case someone tried to sneak up on him and kill him while he was focused on managing the large population of students.

The two men were currently in said school early in the morning, as the principal read over documents that were buried under his long locks of mauve hair. With his sharp eyes of pale gold, his very fair skin the tone of pearls and his intricate clothes that only a man of his status could afford, he could very well be more of a beautiful sculpture than a politician.

Not that the bodyguard standing by the only door into the office would ever say such words when in a public building. He kept his dark blue hair in a high ponytail, which miraculously made it look a lot like a dolphin’s dorsal fin, with two long strands over his left ear and his bangs in a bowl cut which at another angle covered his sharp, dark brown eyes. His skin was a few tones darker than the principal’s own complexion, and it stood out from the teal suit with wave patterns on the coattail, light blue waistcoat, bronze-yellow, pinstripe button-down with a sea green ascot, and the pin on the lapel that looked like a bouquet of pearls that he wore. His pants were navy blue slacks with black Oxfords, and hanging from a belt on his side was a long scabbard with a sword inside that had a unique silver guard which was studded with pearls and emeralds.

Other than the scratching of a pen on paper, the two men were in relative silence. The bluenette watched the man at the desk through his bangs, only for him to jump when his boss slammed his pen down. The mauve-haired man looked in his direction and chuckled in amusement.

“That works every time,” he teased. All the bodyguard could do was smirk back with a shake of his head. “By the way, I have a gap in my schedule this evening that I could pay a stop at one of the local businesses. You up for joining me,  _ ma belle perle _ ?”

“ _ M. _ Beaumont,” the armed man started, only for the principal to raise his hand.

“What have I said about being overly formal when it’s just the two of us?”

“You’re not the best at flirting with those you want to impress, Charles. Have you even brought up this dinner plan with Belle?”

“I ran over my schedule for today with her last night. I have the time to take you somewhere after months of gruelling paperwork,  _ mon cher _ .”

“Stop.” The man at the door began to get pink in the cheeks. “Speaking your mother tongue isn’t going to make me go out.”

“You always were the toughest catch. That’s what I adore about you. You’re a feisty swordfish with the bite of a bull shark.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” the bluenette questioned.

Before ‘Charles’ could reply, there was a knock on the office door. The bodyguard reached for his sword as he answered who was knocking.

“Am I interrupting your date plans again, gentlemen?” a bright red-haired man teased with an all-knowing-grin. The dark blue-haired man narrowed his eyes with a displeased groan in his throat.

“Mr. Lagana is here, sir,” he informed the politician as he stepped aside and opened the door for the visitor to come in.

“Well, someone is in a pretty chipper mood,” the principal commented, though sounding a little annoyed by the interruption. Salvatore either didn’t notice or just decided to let it go.

“I had the joy of driving my son to his student council meeting this morning. I haven’t been able to do that in some time.”

“And what of that one boy you told us about? The one who refuses to enroll?” the bluenette questioned with a glare. Salvatore could only sigh in exhaustion, massaging his forehead with a hand.

“I told you that I’ve already tried everything, but he’s set on the ‘family business’ to the point I fear he’s obsessed with it.”

“Perhaps I could whip him into some shape for needed education,” the man at the desk suggested.

The redhead slammed his hands on the desk aggressively, snarling at the mauve-haired man.

“Touch him and I will have the whole underworld out to kill you!” Salvatore threatened.

He didn’t even flinch when he felt a needle-like point press against his throat. The lilac-eyed man could also tell that the one who had him at sword point was glaring holes into his skull.

Another knock interrupted the three in their stalemate. Before any of them could move, the door opened.

In came a man around the same age as the principal with platinum blonde hair, fair skin and green eyes. He had that pure glow about him, wearing traditional cassocks with a green and white sash with the depictions of a sun and stars on it. Hanging from his neck was a simple chain necklace with a flame-shaped pendant.

“Chapelle?” the bluenette asked in confusion, pulling his rapier away from the redhead.

“It appears I came on behalf of Brother Adel at a bad time,” Chapelle stated with a neutral expression.

“You came on the request of Adel?”

“No, it has come to my knowledge that he makes you personally uncomfortable, Sir Sven. You have my apologies for his aggressive behaviour. Followers of our church must choose that for themselves. I have already reprimanded him for his unintentional harassment.”

“At least the High Priest is respectful with people’s space,” the principal commented. “I suppose that would mean that you’re here for the same reason as that crazy  _ exorcist _ in that you want to recruit my bodyguard for your exterminations?”

“‘Exterminations’ is a strong term, and I do not agree with his methods in the slightest,” the blonde man defended. “I am not here to badger Sir Sven into joining the church either. I came to discuss with you, Principal Charlemagne Beaumont. Afterwards, I was then hoping to ask you to summon the leader of the ‘underground police’ Salvatore Lagana,” Chapelle looked towards the redhead, “but as luck would have it, he’s present as well.”

“And what does the High Priest want with me? My arrest in the ‘name of holy justice’?” Salvatore questioned with a somewhat playful, and somewhat taunting smirk.

“I am asking for your help in an investigation on the three incidents from over the past ten years.”

The room filled with tension, so thick it would take the sharpest sword to cut through it. There wasn’t one person in the room who didn’t know about the three tragedies in which raging fires broke out and always took someone’s life. That was the only connection between the incidents, being that the explanations for the fires were never explained.

The incidents were quickly covered by the government, saying that it was just a broken pipe that caused combustion. Charlemagne was one of the few politicians who didn’t buy that, and so he kept tabs on any similar incidents.

Salvatore’s interest in the incidents was on a more personal level, one that would always bring him back to that day at a certain orphanage.

“You two are interested in learning the truth around what happened, don’t you?” the priest asked the two. “You know that what happened in those incidents were no accidents, let alone clean in any sense of the name.”

“You’re talking about the latest two incidents in which two labs suddenly went up in flames,” Salvatore answered. “One was a private laboratory for unknown research, and the other was on a larger scale where hundreds of people died in a massive inferno. Despite the blaze, however, another hundred or so survived without any injuries pointing to burns.”

“But they did have signs of severe trauma and many sported cuts and scars,” Sven added with a serious look. “Evidence recovered from the scene pointed to there being a series of experiments in that facility. Very… inhumane experiments.” He hesitated in that last part.

“Indeed. And the evidence that the police tried to hide indicates that it started with that fire in the apartment that took the lives of several residents,” Chapelle added. “And of all the people on that block, there was only one known survivor, who soon disappeared shortly after. The police then decided to cover it up and claim there were no survivors. Of course, the four of us already know that to be false.” The blonde looked to Salvatore with a neutral look on his face, but his eyes appeared accusatory. The other could only give the man a glare.

“Who was it? Or who do you have in mind that could be the suspect behind that?” he growled with hate dripping from every word he spoke.

“I’m afraid that the most likely suspects are already dead,” Charlamagne answered, trying to regain every bit of composure he had lost. “Five years ago, the scientist and his assistants were the victims of the first lab fire, which at the time, had been caused by an unexplained explosion. There were signs of them experimenting on something, but the test subject escaped during the chaos.”

“Which means they don’t have connections with the fire from two years ago, the latest incident,” Sven concluded. “The year prior, hundreds of people disappeared, and photo IDs have confirmed that the survivors of that accident were indeed those people. And just several miles from where the fire happened…” The bluenette paused, fiddling with the guard of his sword nervously.

“Bodies of the remaining, missing people were found,” the principal finished with a heavy breath. “All of them had scabs, some corpses older than others, and many of them dismembered and torn up. The others in the political seats wanted that covered up more than anything, as if they were afraid that the carnage would be traced back to them.”

“You see why I don’t trust people like you then,” Salvatore stated, arms crossed and tone sounding accusatory. “Most of your filth only cares about controlling what people see and hear, and they stamp out anything that would ruin themselves. Not to mention they love to spout lies claiming that they’ll make everything better, only to use tax money for their own little vacations. The only reason I open my gang’s services to you two is because you’re the few with actual honour.”

“And I appreciate it, which is why I don’t have you and your gang arrested on the spot,” the politician argued.

“Gentlemen, I believe that we have come to a sense of agreement that we’re all needed in order to uncover what the government has been trying to hide from the public,” Chapelle said, stepping up to the desk. “It will take the inside of the political system, the people who rebel and find loopholes in the laws, and the religious side who can also infiltrate the needed information, in order for these tragedies to finally be relieved. There’s a more ominous side to the incidents, and the government wants to keep it in the dark. If things continue like this, we could face a larger tragedy than the fire two years ago.”

“And that won’t happen,” Salvatore promised with a very serious look on his face, almost as if he were solving the hardest problem in the world. And perhaps, they just were doing so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, it's time for some name faaaaaaacts~!!!:
> 
> 1) Champagne’s name, ‘Charlemagne’, is the same as the King who ruled several empires with his name meaning “Charles the Great”, hence his nickname. His surname is ‘Beaumont’, which is a French placename that means “beautiful hill/mountain”.
> 
> 2) Swordfish Steak is named ‘Sven’, which is a name fit for a knight in that it means “young warrior”. His last name is ‘Esprit’, which means “spirit”, and the English word in the same spelling means “quality of being lively, witty and vivacious”.
> 
> 3) Croissant’s name, ‘Chapelle’, means ‘Living near a church’, while his surname, ‘Viennoiserie’, is a reference to what type of pastry a croissant is.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this chapter and if you enjoyed it, please leave a comment :))  
> It gives us motivation in life :'))


	13. Too Many Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> List of Featured Characters in Order of Appearance:
> 
> Cassata: Cassiano Palermo  
> Black Pudding: Olivia Casey  
> Stargazey Pie: Nichola Cornwall  
> Tempura: Theodoric Nagasaki  
> Macaron: Mielle Dupain-Medici
> 
> There's another important person in the chapter... but it would be quite the shame to expose their identities this early on ;))

His mind was like a large fishbowl of scattered thoughts and images, just when he believed he had a string of thought in his grasp, it would scatter and fly away before his eyes.

What was happening again?

What was he doing?

What had happened to land him where he was now?

Just when he thought to give up and let the thoughts come to him instead, he saw a glimpse of an image; a familiar, blonde boy with an eye the colour of shallow waters…

Before he even realized what it was, Cassiano woke up on one of the nurse’s office’s cots. He gazed around the room in confusion. How did he get here?

“Oh good, you’ve woken up,” a woman called. He looked to the side, seeing a woman wearing a white and red nurse’s outfit. “Mr Shioyaki had to call Miss Harumi back to bring you to the clinic. You had passed out before class even started.”

 _‘Right… that’s what happened…’_ Cassiano thought sheepishly.

Frankly, he was embarrassed to realize that he fainted on his first day back, but how else was he supposed to react after seeing someone he hadn’t seen in years? Not to mention who he thought was _dead_?

He was so deep in his thoughts, he barely heard the nurse tell him that he could stay for a few more minutes if he still felt unwell. Cassiano certainly felt unwell, just not in the way the school nurse would have assumed.

When she saw that the red-head was unable to keep up with her words, the nurse sighed.

“Perhaps, you should be released for the rest of the day,” he registered her saying.

Under any normal circumstances, Cassiano would have been disappointed at himself. However, this was no normal situation. He felt physically and mentally exhausted from his last moments of consciousness, and right now, he wouldn’t mind just going back home and falling asleep.

He sighed as he stood up from the cot, wobbling a bit due to the numbness of his legs, before grabbing his backpack and checking its contents just to make sure he had everything.

The door to the nurse’s office opens, and a young girl around the redhead’s age walked in. If Cassiano wasn’t feeling like a zombie at that time, he would’ve flinched at the bags under her ashened eyes.

“Nichola, again?” the nurse seemed to be chiding. “Didn’t you have your Pick-Me-Up Tea with you?”

“Drank it all,” the long-haired girl replied, sounding completely drained herself, finishing with a yawn that she covered.

Cassiano couldn’t help but feel a little sympathetic for the girl. She looked seconds away from collapsing onto the floor, and the nurse probably thought the same when she ushered the girl towards one of the cots.

“I don’t need two fainted patients today, Nichola. I’ll write it up to Salvatore and your teachers to give you a sick day tomorrow.”

The girl, Nichola, only replied with a tired nod as she dropped onto one of the cots. The nurse retreated to the back of the room, probably in search of medicine or something.

There was a knock on the slide door. The nurse was obviously now in a horrible mood, as she groaned in annoyance.

“Come in.”

A muscular man with a black and red gym tee came in, with a whimpering child with pink hair in his arms. His blonde hair was extremely long and unkempt, tied back into a messy ponytail with a salmon patterned headband. He was fair-skinned with a pair of pale, golden eyes. The man was dressed in a pair of green and grey sweatpants with black and cream coloured basketball sneakers.

“Sorry to disturb you, Olivia, but the kids got Mielle hurt again,” he told the woman. “Got her a cut on the shoulder and bruises on her legs.”

“Those... brats,” the nurse hissed? Huffed? Cassiano was still too worn out to make out what she was feeling. Though she was possibly going to say something a lot worse judging from her hesitation, but possibly refrained due to being in the presence of such a little girl.

Wait, now that Cas thought about it, that voice sounded very familiar to him. His eyes widened, straightening his sitting position best he could.

“Theo- _senpai_?” The man’s eyes snapped to him at the nickname as he was handing the small girl to the woman.

“Cassi- _chan_?!” For once, Cas wished he forgot about that nickname. “You’re back?!”

“Do you know this boy, Mr. Nagasaki?” the nurse asked with a raised eyebrow.

“You bet I do! It’s Cassi- _chan_ , and he’s been away for a whole decade now! He was one of my juniors when I was a student here!” Theo clarified. Cas wished he would stop calling him that childish nickname from when he was a grade-schooler.

“Yes, I just saw Ches and Saki this morning, and I got Shun- _senpai_ as a teacher,” Cas informed the messy blonde. “You two still going out, by the way?”

“Oh, if anything, Shun- _chan_ is now a clingy kitty who seeks me out after school every day!” he laughed. “Still as adorable as ever though!”

Cas could hear the nurse loudly clear her throat from somewhere in the room, as if reminding the blonde of why he was here in the first place.

“Oh right!” He went to her side immediately as the dark-haired woman strapped a bandage on the little girl’s shoulder.

“She’ll be fine, but we better write this up as bullying and ill-mannered behavior this time,” she told him. “She’ll also have to sit out Phys Ed for the rest of the day.”

“Sit out?!” the pinkette repeated, sounding disappointed.

“Sorry, Mielle…” the gym teacher apologized with a comforting smile on his face. “On the bright side, if you’re feeling well by tomorrow, you can join us again! But only if you focus on getting better right now.”

“Okay, Mr. Nana.” The redhead had to hold back a snort of laughter.

“‘Mr. Nana’?” he chortled.

“Hey, it’s kind of hard for little kids to pronounce,” the gym coach reasoned. “So it’s a nickname. I remember you having difficulty saying ‘Nagasaki’ back then, and that’s why I went by Theo.”

“Don’t remind me,” Cas replied with a small chuckle.

“Anyway, why are you here?” It took a few seconds for Cassiano to realize that Theo was asking why he was in the Nurse’s office and to that, he couldn’t help but let out a small nervous chuckle.

“I passed out before class, apparently.”

“Seriously? You getting enough sleep or eating enough?”

“My health is fine, but… But _senpai_ ,” Cassiano bit his lip. There had been one single question in his mind for some time, but the words felt like poison on his tongue. _What’s…_

“...What’s Pista doing here?”

Olivia’s head snapped towards Cas, eyes wide with surprise. Theo had instantly frozen on the spot, pupils shrunk and looking nervous.

“I thought he was… That fire a decade ago…” He couldn’t get the words out.

“Cassi- _chan_ …” The messy blonde looked away with a forlorn look. “It was actually a surprise for all of us that Pista- _kun_ was alive… He just… suddenly came back out of nowhere a few years ago. Ches- _chan_ was crying waterfalls the moment we saw him after all those years. But he…”

The way Theo just… _deflated_ left a sick feeling in Cas’ stomach.

“He has amnesia.”

…

…

…

_What?_

“He has…? But why…?”

“We… don’t know what or why it happened, but the only thing we could understand, as far as he remembers, is that he’s the son of an associate of Charles,” Theo exclaimed.

If Cassiano didn’t feel weak back then, then he certainly felt weak now. He didn’t even realize he had dropped back onto the cot until he asked his next question.

“He… doesn’t remember me? Or Chesney?”

“He doesn’t remember anything from before he disappeared, and his memory of the time he’s been missing causes him to clamp up. Ches- _chan_ and Saki- _chan_ were devastated, and Shun- _chan_ and I were at loss at what to do. After a while, we’ve just been trying to support him best we can, though I can tell that it hurts Ches-c _han_ to see her best friend like that.”

Cassiano probably _could’ve_ imagined it, but he didn’t feel as if he _w_ _anted_ to imagine it. He didn’t even know how he _felt_ hearing that! He should be crying, he should feel devastated, and yet, he felt hollow… as if he were a piñata broken open, and all the candy and prizes he held had been stolen away, never to be seen again.

He inhaled.

Then exhaled.

“I think… I need to go,” Cassiano replied, slinging his school bag over his shoulder as he stood up from the cot, backpack clutched to his chest.

“Mr. Nagasaki, bring Mielle back to her class,” Olivia instructed. “I will call this boy’s parents to inform them of the situation.”

“Alright, Olivia. Come here, Mielle,” the blonde said to the little girl, who reached out with her short arms.

As Theo carried the small pink-haired girl back to gym class, he looked over his shoulder with a worried look for his former junior.

🍰🥃🥛🍦

“You want to recruit _this_ kid?”

_“Of course~! He’d be the perfect pawn in relocating my long lost subject...”_

“This is pointless.”

 _“This is_ not _pointless!!”_

“Then tell me, why the hell are we doing this again?”

_“Well, as you know, there’s no hope for you to talk to him without looking weird, and there’s even less hope for me!”_

“Didn’t you say you used to have assistants that looked to be the same age?”

 _“Have you really not been listening? I told you_ already _, those dollies have abandoned me so long ago~”_

“You’ve only been deceased for five years.”

 _“And you remember_ that _much!? I feel so, utterly betrayed~!”_

“...”

 _“And you know_ how _you can make it up to me~?”_

“And why should I allow you?”

 _“‘Cuz you’re my_ best _friend!!! I_ need _your help!”_

“...”

_“C’moooooon~!”_

“Only if you can promise me no one will get hurt.”

_“Then we have a deal~”_

🍰🥃🥛🍦

Cassiano stood at the gate of the school with a forlorn, empty look at the ground as he waited on his parents’ arrival. His head was full of too many questions with no answers or clues to help him out. Pista being alive, but having no memories of his friends… of _Cas_ , his best friend… Or even memories of where he had been all this time. It was too much to understand on his first day back.

He was about to grab his head and pull at his own hair in frustration, when a shadow came into his range of vision. His head shot up to find a mysterious man walking up to him.

The redhead’s back hit the wall in surprise from the sudden approach of this stranger. Their hand then came very close to his head, brushing against the creamy red locks. Cassiano did not have much time to process what had just happened, but the first thing he noticed about the stranger were their crimson red eyes.

This normally wasn’t anything new for him, he’s seen people with red eyes before. But he knew for a fact that when a shadow would fall over them, they did _not_ glow like the eyes of the man in front of him.

The second thing he noticed was the question they asked next.

“You’re Cassiano Palermo, correct? I heard from a little birdie that someone’s reunion with an old friend did not go as planned~”

And that’s when Cas understood, he was about to be involved in something _very_ shady.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I'm not mistaken... I think the only new peeps in this chapter include Theodoric and Mielle, so here's their name facts! :DD
> 
> 1) Tempura’s first name, ‘Theodoric’, means “Powerful Ruler of the people’. His surname, Nagasaki, is a reference to the Japanese city of Nagasaki where the Portuguese introduced Tempura. Other choices for Tempura’s name include Teobaldo (Courageous People).
> 
> 2) Macaron’s name, ‘Mielle’, can mean ‘Honey’, ‘Sweet as honey’, or ‘Sugary’. Her second surname, ‘Medici’, is a reference to the origins of the macaron and how it was introduced by an Italian chef working for Queen Catherine De Medici, while her first surname, ‘Dupain’, is a reference to Marinette Dupain-Cheng from Miraculous Ladybug, who brought macarons to school during the show’s prologue episode.


	14. Patch-Eyed Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES BROWNIE RETURNSSSS!!!
> 
> List of Featured Characters in Order of Appearance:
> 
> Brownie: Brook Machias Joseph  
> Napoleon Cake: Napoleon Mille Feuille  
> B-52: Bryer Kate Fich

In retrospect, Brook supposed this was a terrible idea. Even if it would wind up saving his brother’s behind later on, sneaking out of the house in broad daylight just to deliver his wallet and phone was probably a terrible idea and the biggest mistake he’s ever made. He knew his only three friends (four if he counted the human girl from the cafe) were still in school at this time of day, increasing the risk of being caught. But the thought of a depressed Celestino returning from work because he forgot two VERY important things pushed him to this.

So he ventured out on his own, his brother’s things in one pocket and his own phone in his hand. He knew that his pal Napoleon had a habit of texting him even during class, so he could pass Brook predictions every now and then… But when would that happen? Brook was unsure and in all honesty, was dreading the thought a little.

He hadn’t told Napoleon, Sandra, or  _ even _ Elois about this ‘expedition’ of his, so he’s truly dreading the moment they got  _ that _ prediction and all the fussing that would come with it.

Unfortunately, as if the devil heard, Brook could feel his own phone vibrating in his hand.

_ ‘Oh god.’ _

He slowly lifted it to his face.

_ ‘Oh god.’ _

He was unsure if his hand was shaking because of the cold, or because of nervousness.

_ ‘Oh GOD.’ _

Despite his prayers, Brook could feel his heart drop at the sight of the name his screen displayed.

‘Napoleon’

At this moment, Brook understood that no social encounters from the past would be enough to prepare him for the earful he’s about to receive.

As he slowly pressed the ‘Answer’ button, he couldn’t help but hold his breath…

_ “BROOK WHAT THE HECK!?” _

… Before holding his phone at arm’s length from his ear.

“Um… hey Napoleon!” he greeted, wincing a little when his voice cracked.

_ “Don’t ‘hey’ me, Brook! I can’t believe you’d just... leave on your own!” _ Napoleon replied with a huff.

“You’re speaking as if that decision was set in stone.”

_ “If you’re speaking so nervously around me, then it’s safe to say you’ve already done it!” _

“How are you-”

_ “Don’t change the subject! And we’re on lunch break right now! Sandra is freaking out about the possibilities of you getting into the worst situations, Elois is being unsuccessful in calming her down, and I- SCREW whatever reason you’re out by yourself! Go home, NOW!” _

“I can’t yet. Cel left his wallet and phone at the house in his rush to another last-minute photo shoot, and he won’t be back until late tonight again.”

_ “Sucks to be your brother, but you are going to be in a lot of danger if you don’t get out of there! I got a high percentage this time that your ‘little adventure’ is going to lead you into a messy encounter! A 62% chance of that, Brook!” _

Brook wasn’t going to lie, he could feel the panic rising from his chest. If a butterfly oracle got a vision THAT high, it was very possible.

_ “And I don’t mean to make you panic even more, but you remember that guy at the arcade? There’s a solid 80% it’s going to be him!” _

_ ‘OH GOD.’ _

Sometimes, life just had a knack when it came to perfect _ \- almost  _ too _ perfect- _ timings, because just as Napoleon said that, Brook could hear a voice he just wished wasn’t familiar to him.

He was… unsure how to properly describe how he felt that second, but one thing for sure was that he felt faint, and that unfortunately familiar voice? It was getting louder as the seconds flew by.

Without even looking, he bolted. The ravenette wasn’t even paying attention to where he was running, he just had to get away.

A garage building at the end of the street came into his view. It looked like no one was using it, and he saw there was a door. Without thinking, he ran to it, grabbing the knob and twisting it. The door easily opened, and the teen slammed it once he was inside.

Brook felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest from that fear and adrenaline. His legs, unused to running like that, gave out eventually and he slid down the door to the floor. That was too close.

Speaking of doors, Brook had no idea where he was or if there was someone here. Obviously, someone was if the door was unlocked.

“Is someone here?” The ravenette had to cover his mouth to hold in the yelp that would’ve escaped his throat otherwise. 

Drat his horrible luck of walking into the one prediction Napoleon warned him about. He pulled his knees up to his chest, curling up in a scared ball. That was all the strength he had left in his legs after escaping from attention. 

Brook knew from the very beginning that leaving the house in broad daylight and all alone no less was a recipe for disaster.

He still thought that as he shuddered when he heard footsteps coming to the door, and saw a pair of brown boots stop in front of him where his blue eyes peered over the hills of his knees.

“Are you okay?” The voice was actually gentle, not the harshness Brook was expecting for trespassing on someone’s property. He dared himself to look up higher, eyes tracing a lean figure in a beige, blue and brown jumpsuit with a utility belt around their waist and gold embroidered designs on the black gloves. The ravenette avoided looking up any higher, knowing the consequences of making eye contact.

Brook saw the person starting to crouch down, and he buried his face in his knees. He didn’t hear the other move closer, neither of them making a sound. He heard a little rustling after an uncomfortable few seconds, and suddenly there’s a warm hand on his shoulder which sent a jolt through him like he never felt before.

Big mistake on his part. It made him look up as a normal reaction. But damn, the face he was now looking at was attractive. This man was young but clearly older than Brook himself, with fair skin, messy cream white hair, a black monocle eye patch over his left eye, and a sharp right eye that was even bluer than his own, a colour that reminded him of the ocean.

The man before him pulled away a little, a red tint crossing his cheeks. Brook could only feel his heart sink further into his stomach when his mind could finally comprehend the fact that his siren’s lure had taken effect on the other.

To his surprise, the other managed to break eye contact, pretending to clear his throat as he stood up.

“Well, you seem alright for someone who just barged in here without knocking,” he said, trying to sound annoyed. Brook finally felt that he could move again, but then he felt something off. He looked down at his hand holding his phone, and the fear came back tenfold.

The whole screen was shattered, making images impossible. If his brother ever saw his phone in this condition, Brook knew that it would give him away instantly. His face must’ve been displaying his horror because the man bent down and took the device from him. The creamy blonde inspected the phone, holding it up to his monocle.

“Screen is ruined as hell, but all of the functions are still operational,” he analyzed. “Thankfully, I have such screens that I can easily fix it.”

“R-Really?!” Brook asked suddenly, surprising both himself and the other. He covered his mouth, mentally scolding himself. 

“You… don’t get out much, do you? Homeschooled I assume, since this is still school hours. I suppose this repair will be on the house this time.” 

“N-No it’s okay!” Brook insisted. “I can pay for the repairs!”

“Please stop making it difficult. I’m not much of a social person myself,” the other replied, turning away. “Feel free to stick around, or come back later if you’d like.”

Brook watched as the man walked away towards a workbench. He now had two options: Get out of here now and come back with the gang later, or stick around with this complete stranger as he fixed his phone.

Coming back later with his friends would be a lot safer, but he risked an encounter on his way back home. Besides, this guy seemed… odd. A complete stranger, yes, but at least he’s not a  _ creepy _ complete stranger. He supposed the second option would be the least chaotic.

The ravenette managed to pull himself to his feet, supporting himself on the door for a few seconds to steady his legs. He immediately saw the broken screen get popped off with minimal effort from this man, which by this point Brook assumed was a mechanic of some sorts.

In fact, taking a look at the room alone seemed like clear enough of a sign. Lots of tools were scattered all around on tabletops and shelves, with even a lift in the centre of the garage to get under vehicles. By all the shine in this garage, this mechanic was no amateur, taking care of all of his equipment.

“What’s your name? Might as well know since you’re sticking around,” the blonde inquired.

“U-Um…” the ravenette stuttered nervously. “It’s… Brook. How about you?”

“Name’s Bryer. Bryer Fich. This is my shop for repairs and maintenance of appliances, vehicles, every electric knickknack in the city,” he replied without once looking away from the phone.

“So… how long have you worked here?”

“Owned the place ever since I graduated last year. Mr. Lagana is my landowner, so my pay half the time goes to him.”

“You’re fresh out of high school and already with your own business?” Brook couldn’t help but feel surprised. Although it’s true he didn’t know a lot of people, one thing he knew for sure was that not many people had their lives together so soon. Some people would either wait or start college immediately, and even after that, not many people scored a job right after. From this alone, he believed it’s safe to assume his phone was in good hands.

“It was given to me by my landowner. I owe him for keeping me off the streets after I lost my parents.”

Brook fell silent. He had no idea how to reply to that sad bit of information.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Car accident. Speaking of off the streets, who’s in charge of your education at home?”

“Um…” Should he even be telling this man, Bryer, anything about his life?

“From your interactions with me alone, someone who isn’t home often enough, am I right?” Bryer questioned.

Brook couldn’t help but feel a little flustered. Most of the talking had been done by Bryer, and yet he’s still managed to hit the nail on the coffin one too many times.

“Y-Yeah… My older brother… He’s a model…”

“Overprotective type too?”

“He… worries about me. We’ve only been here for a few years after we left the… seaside.” That wasn’t a complete lie on his part. From where Brook stood, he could see Bryer raise a brow, and for a moment, all he could feel was panic.

“And how long would ‘a few years’ be?” Brook internally sighed in relief, yet still bit his lip nervously.

“Um… almost a decade.”

“And you spent most of your time alone?”

“Uh… yeah.” Brook couldn’t help but wonder why he’s telling his life story to a man he just met several minutes ago. But he was fixing his phone for free, so he supposed it wouldn’t hurt to share a little. “But… I managed to make a few friends by accident since I lived here.”

“They’re not… marked with ribbons, are they?” That was a… rather strange question. It was probably the most bizarre one the mechanic had asked so far. But he seemed almost hesitant to ask in the first place.

“No, and there’s only one girl and even she doesn’t wear ribbons,” Brook replied, a little hesitant himself. Bryer appeared to relax after hearing that answer. Brook was, in truth, debating on whether he should ask why people with ribbons was important. Before he could, Bryer seemed to have jumped to another topic.

“And how did you accidentally meet these friends when you’re, if I’m analyzing your situation correctly, never allowed outside your own house?”

For once, the chuckle Brook vocalized wasn’t a nervous one, but one of pure amusement.

“That’s a pretty long story, actually,” he replied. “I was studying in my room when a cork flew in through my open window. My house has this wall facing the street, and there are these two trees between which make a perfect bridge over it. Shortly after finding the cork, I heard shouting from the other side of the wall, then there was the shaking of the tree on the outside.

“A boy my age was climbing the tree, and he had a toy rifle slung on his back. The moment he saw me, he immediately panicked and slipped off the branch he was standing on.”

“Ouch, that must’ve resulted in a broken bone or two,” the mechanic commented. Brook laughed.

“I won’t lie to you, I swore I had a heart attack at that very moment! I quickly went to my yard to make sure I didn’t have a corpse in the garden, only to find two more people my age who had managed to catch him before he could hit the ground. His rifle did take the damage of hitting tree branches though, it was busted beyond repair.”

“How unfortunate.”

“Oh, his disappointment was nothing compared to the stunned and terrified faces those three gave me when they noticed I was there. They became a group of bumbling teens as they were trying to apologize to me! It took them a few minutes to even realize I wasn’t older than any of them!” Brook couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of those three close to crying in fear of getting in trouble for trespassing. He even had to hold his sides because it was starting to hurt.

“I had never laughed so much in my life!” he told Bryer. The ravenette quickly started pulling himself to finish the story, reducing his laughter to a few chuckles. “After that, they came by almost every day after school and on weekends just to get me to hang out with them. They’re good people, keeping me safe and sneaking me out to get a taste of a normal teen life.”

“So your brother doesn’t know about your friends?” his audience asked.

“If I did, he would likely put bars on my window and child-lock the entire house.”

“Even Mr. Lagana isn’t that overprotective of his son or his many wards.”

If things were a little different, he would have certainly chuckled at the implications of Bryer’s response, but all he could really do at the moment was laugh a little nervously.

“I guess my circumstances are a little different from theirs then.”

Bryer looked doubtful of that claim but made no response to it.

“And that should do it,” the cream blonde suddenly stated, holding up the device he was working on. It looked brand new with its not-cracked screen, and even the sides where it got slightly scruffed up were polished down for the original smooth texture.

“Wow! That was fast!” Brook couldn’t help but stare in bewilderment. “And it looks brand new too…”

“One of Mr. Lagana’s wards has a habit of breaking their phone all the time, so it was muscle memory at this point. Here you are.” Bryer held out the device to Brook, who took it eagerly.

“Thank you so much! You have no idea how much this is going to save my life!”

“It’s nothing…” Bryer said, looking away.

Brook would have probably replied in some way shape or form, when his phone turned on with a text from Napoleon.

** NF:  ** WHERE ARE YOU????!!!!!

_ ‘Oh god.’ _

“My friend is freaking out right now,” the ravenette nervously chuckled.

“Better tell him you’re okay,” Bryer suggested.

** BJ: ** I’m okay, Napo. 

** BJ: I managed to run into the 20% in the 38% chance of NOT getting in trouble. **

**  
**

Brook did not wait for a reply as he quickly lowered his phone.

“Thank you again for helping me out.” He would have said more, but Bryer simply waved him off.

“As I said, this is nothing new to me. But…” Their eyes met again, and this time Brook felt his cheeks get a little warm.

“If you… ever want to come by again, my door is always open,” the adult offered. “Just be sure to announce yourself next time.”

“A-are you sure?”

“Of course. It makes the work fly by, talking to someone like you. I don’t normally get to talk to people myself.” That would explain how he was able to guess Brook’s life to a frighteningly accurate degree despite having just met.

“Well… um… If you really don’t mind having me around then… I suppose it wouldn’t hurt  _ too _ much to visit you again…” Brook trailed off, mentally slapping himself as he did so, because yes, it could hurt  _ a lot  _ to visit again.

But perhaps, with the gang… it wouldn’t be so bad?

“So… I guess now’s the time for me to go,” the ravenette says with a small shrug. Walking towards the door, he mentally prepared himself to return to the world outside, before quickly looking back at Bryer-

“See you later, then.”

“Um… yeah…”

** 01001100 01101111 01110110 01100101 01110011 01110100 01110010 01110101 01100011 01101011 **

When Brook left the store, Bryer couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, but at the same time, a little more… motivated to go on with his day. It wasn’t a feeling he felt often, but… perhaps… it was the company? He supposes that it’s really the only explanation left.

With nothing much left to do, he decided to lean against his work table and take a look at his own phone.

Most would assume that the mechanic’s phone would have seen better days, but Bryer was and always has been careful with it. 

He had always been cautious, especially now. The only proof he’d done anything suspicious under anyone’s watch was the new string of numbers displayed on his phone.

He decided not to text the number under ‘Brook’ right away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let us all give it up for Bifty, finally making his appearance! :DD  
> To celebrate, here is Bryer's name fact! uwu
> 
> 1) B-52’s first name, Bryer, means gentle and sweet. His last name, ‘Fich’ is a reference to Peter Fich, the man who was said to invent the drink. His middle name, ‘Kate’, is a reference to Kate Pierson, one of the singers from the band B-52 which was said to be the inspiration for the drink’s name. Alternate names for Bifty include Boone (Good; a blessing) and Bryant (Virtuous/He ascends).


	15. A Reaper We Will Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again with the league of the dead and the Seaside Bistro family :DD
> 
> List of Featured Characters in Order of Appearance:  
> Turducken: Thaddeus Madden  
> Mint Choco Chip (TSS_AA's OC uwu): Milan Ricketts  
> Jelly Art (Once Again TSS_AA's OC): Jacinta Glasse  
> Raindrop Cake: Raian Shingen  
> Green Curry: Fern Wan-Red  
> Rice: Sheng Dao Red  
> Sweet Tofu: Liu-Wei Han-Red  
> Chili (SCS' OCs): Jesse and Scarlet Alegria
> 
> and although their names were not explicitly mentioned;
> 
> Zuppa Toscana: Tullio Florence-Red  
> Boston Lobster: Boston Liam Red

A soft voice was carried through the wind as a woman dressed in black funeral clothes meticulously drew her golden needle in and out of the satin fabrics. Her hair was bright red like a blazing fire, flowing in the wind as she softly hummed. The young lady’s skin was fair and she had a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She wore a black hat with a veil on it as it sat lopsided on her head, adorned with a black stone and small, black feathers. She had a long black dress with puffed shoulders and floral cuffs, making her look as if she was mourning the recent loss of a loved one. The joyful tone in her voice seemed to cancel out that ideal.

She loved the fresh air and the company of the local graveyard spirits. However, if she were to sit on a bench among the populated graves, the garment she was weaving may lose its quality.

Due to that, the young lady compromised. She worked on her client’s clothes on the patio of the funeral home she owned, seated down at the wooden desk covered under several inches of fabric and sewing materials. The spirits continued to buzz in their ineligible chatter all the while.

The young woman was currently in the zone, completely focused as she worked, but her attention was abruptly pulled away from her work when the building's front door opened, revealing a mint-green-haired man with a grin that felt forced.

Accompanying him was a small, young woman with short, teal green hair adorned with pink flowers. Her skin was ashened, yet not in a way that made her look sickly, and her light blue eyes glistened like marbles.

“Greetings, Milan and Jacinta,” the redhead greeted.

“Sup?” Milan greeted a little too casually,

“Afternoon, Miss Madden!” the teal-haired girl added on. “Are you working on another outfit?”

“That is correct,” the freckled woman, Miss Madden confirmed. “What a busy week for us, having to prepare and host three separate funerals.” She continued with a tired sigh. “Anyhow, let us speak of different matters.”

“How about the new Grim Reaper?” Milan suggested. “Have you located them yet, Miss Madden?” The funeral director in question let out a regrettable sigh.

“Unfortunately, their presence is too far for me to sense their precise location,” she answered. “However, I do believe I have a lead.”

“Really?” Jacinta asked with wide eyes as Miss Madden nodded, putting down her sewing materials and moving into the main room to where there was a map pinned on the wall. She pointed a lithe finger to an area close to the beach.

“I can sense their presence lingering around this certain direction,” she told them. “But it’s muddled for some reason.”

“There’s nothing there except a seaside bistro,” Milan pointed out. “Delicious food and great service, I’ll give you that. But what’s the odds of the Grim Reaper being there?”

“It is the only place we haven’t checked yet,” Jacinta stated. “And from what I heard, the nephew of the couple who runs the place just returned a few weeks ago with several people! Perhaps, the new Grim Reaper is among them?”

“But why would the Grim Reaper accompany a living being? You know, unless they want to change them into an underling.”

“I would go look for myself, but I will gravely fall behind schedule with my sewing,” Thaddeus informed with disappointment in her voice.

“What about Jacinta?” Milan suggested.

“She needs to start planning the arrangements for the funeral bouquets, I’m afraid.”

“Sounds like this is all up to you,” the blue-greenette teased.

“Okay, guess that means I can also enjoy a delicious dinner,” the mint greenette said unphased by the task placed on him. “Raian’s already done with the writing stuff for the funerals, right?” he asked. “If so, I’m dragging him to suffer with me!”

“Good luck, and text any of us when you find them,” Thaddeus instructed with a chuckle.

Milan gave a bow to the redhead, and his body shifted in black smoke into a doubled figure of a headless man and his headless horse. Jacinta looked ready to scold him, but the shadow already took off down the hill.

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

** MR: ** Pssssst!

** MR: ** Raian!!! (≧∇≦)/

** RS:  ** Oh god no

** MR: ** Do you hate me so much that you get upset the second come around? ┏༼ ◉ ╭╮ ◉༽┓

** RS:  ** Yes.

** MR: ** (´；д；`)

** RS: ** What is it this time?

** MR: ** Woahwoahwoahwoahwoah

** MR: ** Chill （・□・；）

** MR: ** Are you in a prissy mood cuz you’re still avoiding that guy? ｢(ﾟ<ﾟ)ﾞ??

** RS: ** Please don’t tell me you came to ask me that.

** MR: ** Raian, it’s almost been a week.

** MR: ** It’s been forever since his grandfather's funeral and you’re still tiptoeing around him? (ﾟヘﾟ)？

** RS: ** It hasn’t even been three days.

** RS: ** Cut to the chase.

** RS: ** What does this have to do with anything?

** MR: ** What? Can’t I be worried for you? (,,꒪꒫꒪,,)

** MR: ** I know you’re trying your best to avoid having to talk to him,

** MR: ** But he’s a grieving kid that suspects you.

** MR: ** What if leaving things unsaid with him leads to a bigger problem involving the authorities?! ( •᷄⌓•᷅ )

** RS: ** As you said, he’s a kid.

** RS: ** It’s very likely he doesn’t know the truth about the situation and even then, would the police even believe something so unrealistic without evidence?

** MR: ** W-Well…

** MR: ** Maybe but

** MR: ** Just

** MR: ** Fiiiiine! ヽ(ー^ー )ノ

** MR: ** I’ll drop it for now,

** MR: ** But the second something gets too hot to handle, you better tell us! Got it? 〝〇〟⊂(｀･Δ･´)⊃〝〇〟

** RS: ** Just this once, I will assure you that I will do so.

** MR: ** （＾ω＾）

** RS: ** Now, is there another reason you came here?

** RS: ** Besides imparting me with your ‘wisdom’, of course.

** MR: ** Oh yeahhhhh (꒪⌓꒪)

** MR: ** Anywho, we’ve got an assignment from Miss Madden! o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

** MR: ** Remember the Beachside Bistro? ( ᵘ ᵕ ᵘ ⁎)

** RS: ** What about it?

** MR: ** Miss Madden has a theory that perhaps, that’s where we’ll find 

the new Grim Reaper! (*＾v＾*)

** RS: ** … … 

** RS: ** Of all places, why there?

** MR: ** Beats me, but Miss Madden said she could feel their presence coming from there.

** RS: ** This isn’t an excuse to go out for dinner, is it?

** MR: ** Yes and no. But how can you not?! The food is amazing and the sweet waitress already knows us. (ノ*゜▽゜*)

** RS: ** I see…

** RS: ** Alright then I suppose we don’t have much of a choice.

** RS: ** As long as you don’t pick me up in your true form, then there won’t be a problem.

** MR: ** Okay then ┏༼ ◉ ╭╮ ◉༽┓

** MR: ** See you soon! (*＾▽＾)／

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Cutting off the ignition, Milan and Raian stared at the modest restaurant Milan’s green convertible was parked nearby.

It was still the cozy little place on the other side of two hills that separated it from the beach. Raian had been with him a few times, but not as much. Judging from the several cars gathered outside, they had arrived during the end of the busy hours. Although that could cause some threat to the recon, they sauntered over to the building, with Milan keeping an eye on the other a few times to ensure Raian wouldn’t lag behind.

A family van pulled into the driveway, and a white-haired man and a small, red-haired girl came out. Instantly, Raian and Milan sensed something different about them. But neither of them could possibly be the Grim Reaper they were looking for, and so they continued to the door.

The bistro was bustling more than the last time Milan came here, and in addition to that, there appeared to be more people serving the patrons alongside the adorable, little girl who helped her relatives and still handing menus to people.

“Welcome, sir, how many are you having today?” a man with green hair possibly longer than Miss Madden’s and with a mask on his face asked. The plastic on his face made Milan feel slightly uncomfortable.

“Oh Fern, it’s Milan!” the usual waitress, Sheng, called. “And he brought Mr. Shingen this time around. Milan is a moderate regular here, and he brings Mr. Shingen from time to time.”

“So two then?” the waiter at the door, Fern, inquired.

“Make it four,” a punkish, black-and-white-haired boy suggested as he came up.

“Four?” Milan said with confusion.

“For the family of two behind you and yourselves. We’re trying to save tables, for as you can see, we’re busy with larger parties at this time.”

Raian looked over his shoulder at the man with the child, who was being held in his arms. He could faintly remember them exiting their family van earlier. The girl’s face was bright, which probably meant that she’d never been here before.

“Oh, Mr. Alegria!” the punk exclaimed with a smile. “Thank you for coming out here tonight during my shift.”

“Yes, it was a pleasant surprise to hear that you work here,” the father said.

“Is this the man you want to learn from, Liu-Wei?” Fern asked in amusement.

“The very same. His craft works wonders for all sorts of symptoms and other things.”

“I don’t like him, Daddy,” the child in his arms stated with a narrowed eye. “He’s fishy.”

“Scarlet!” the white-haired man chided, fixing his hold on his daughter. “Sorry, she has always been like this.”

“Adorable and straightforward, I like this kid,” the light greenette chuckled.

“Let me handle this, Fern,” Sheng ordered, stepping up.

“Hello, Sheng,” Milan greeted with a bright smile. “Sorry I haven’t come by in a while. Work’s been busy lately.”

“It’s good to see you too, Milan. And welcome back, Mr. Shingen.” The pale redhead gave a wave and a nod. “Please follow me, your usual table is open.”

A four-seater table was located near the back of the restaurant in a smaller room with a beach lodge theme with the table being a picnic bench with starfish-shaped cushions. The wall by the table had a painting of looking out to the beach from a porch under the shade. The floor was birch wood for a sand colouration, and the rest of the walls were painted a light brown and decorated with several pictures and beach-themed aesthetics.

“Your waiter will be here in just a moment,” Sheng told the group. “Please make yourselves comfortable and let us know if you need anything.”

As the young, white-haired girl walked away, Raian couldn’t help but quietly sigh in resignation. There was no way he and Milan could talk about ‘work’ with the family so close to them.

“Screamer,” the child, Scarlet, suddenly stated, looking right at Raian. The banshee and his steed instantly froze. “He’s a screamer.”

“Scarlet!” the father gasped in horror. “Don’t just say things about someone! He hasn’t even said a word to be called that!”

“A family of witches?” Milan blurted out. Raian’s mauve eyes shot a glare at his companion. Out of the corner of his eyes, however, he could see the patriarch of the small family in front of the two envoys of death freeze.

Despite the noise produced by the bustling patrons of the restaurant, it felt as if the four were in a silent stalemate… before finally-

“For your information, we cry,  _ not  _ scream,” Raian replied curtly, in a way, confirming that everyone seated at this table of four was indeed not human and that this topic was best left unspoken as of now.

He and Milan needed to focus right now and search for the Grim Reaper. But they knew that they couldn’t just walk away from the table and out into the more crowded room for their target.

“So you come by often, huh?” the white-haired man questioned to break the ice.

“Yes, I greatly recommend it when you want good food and time away from your troubles,” Milan answered. “Name’s Milan, and this here is my partner, Raian. We work for the funeral services and have been coming here for some time.”

“Horsey then?” Scarlet asked, looking at the mint greenette. Milan snorted with a flat expression, but his mauve-eyed companion turned away with a hand over his mouth to conceal his laughter.

“She’s a blunt one, I see,” he chuckled.

“I’m sorry about Scarlet giving you away,” the girl’s dad said, messaging his temple. “That’s her name. I’m Jesse.”

“So what brings you here today after school hours?”

“Someone wants to take up an apprenticeship under Daddy,” Scarlet replied with a scrutinizing gaze. “That punk guy from earlier. He wanted to talk to Daddy once he was done on his shift.”

“Wait, he’s a witch too?” Milan questioned, surprised, but only for a brief moment. “But now that I think about it, his aura didn’t quite feel human… and the same could be said ‘bout the one with the mask…”

“Almost none of the workers are human,” Raian bluntly stated. “Just the couple who runs the bistro. Although, their niece and nephew are witches themselves. So obviously, the relatives are a skipped generation.”

“You know I know that already!” Milan replied with a pout. “But I have never seen those two before. Must have something to do with the nephew returning after two years, perhaps?”

“Perhaps.”

Someone walked up to the table. The young man was fair-skinned with pale grey hair pulled into a braid and ponytail because of how long it was. His eyes were a deep shade of green and a strange scar encircled his right eye. He looked no older than Raian’s physical appearance.

“Welcome to Beachside Bistro,” the young, green-eyed man greeted with a smile. “What would you like to start off with to drink?”

The two immediately felt it, all of their attention focused on this young man. There was no mistaking it, and the reason Thaddeus couldn’t fully sense him was because he was surrounded by several anomalies.

“We’ll take the fresh-squeezed orange juice please,” the father answered. It wasn’t till that very moment did Raian realize,  _ he was completely unprepared for the situation _ . He had been so focused on finding the Grim Reaper that he had completely forgotten about the following steps, as well as what his order should be.

“We’ll just take coffee, double milk and sugar for me, one sugar for my friend,” Milan interjected. There was no way the two envoys of death could just “wing it” in this situation, planning actually had to be made.

“Well, at least you’re not the most bizarre order I’ve seen today,” the man stated with a chuckle. “I will be right back once your drinks are ready.” The waiter walked out of the room, but he gave a look over his shoulder that displayed nervousness as he rounded the corner.

“It’s him… Who we’ve been looking for,” Raian stated aloud for it to set in.

“Found who?” Jesse inquired, looking at the two.

“Our new leader, the Grim Reaper. The most powerful of the undead anomalies. The head honcho. The exorcist, etcetera etcetera,” the mint greenette answered. “The previous retired a few years ago with no successor. But that man… he had the aura of the Grim Reaper.”

“We thought we would no longer have one until we saw the signs of one,” the pale redhead added.

A small silence fell among them.

“Well then… I wish you good luck recruiting him!” Jesse told the two, wanting to move away from the conversation. He wouldn’t admit it aloud, but this entire undead hierarchy was somewhat confusing to him.

“I think we’ll need it,” the smoke-player commented. “I heard from Sheng that her brother is a little on the overprotective side. It’s not going to be easy to get close to our leader with him around.”

Just as Milan said that, a different man came in, a little older than the two envoys but his youthful face indicated that he was younger than Jesse. His white hair was mostly down with only a small bit in a bun, and his fiery red eyes stood out from his palish complexion. In one hand he was balancing a tray carrying their drinks.

“Sorry for the short delay, my brother was suddenly called for something else,” he stated. Something about that sentence seemed off to Raian, and he had a feeling Milan could detect it as well.

Either way, if it somehow involved them, then Raian feared for their lives because this man looked as if he could snap Milan’s spine in half if he wanted to. The scary part was he didn’t doubt that this man could do that.

“This scallop mug has the double milk and sugar, and the conch mug has only one sugar,” he told as he started passing out the drinks to the diners. “And the homemade orange juice for the family of two.”

“Thank you!”

“Thank you, mister!”

“Thanks.”

Raian on the other hand said nothing, but he did give a small smile out of politeness. Truly, he was unsure of what to do in this situation.

He remembered how easy it probably was for the previous Grim Reaper to convert him, a young child with no one to look after him, but their new leader was a young man with a family to stand by his side. He obviously had no experience in using such powers, if he knew about them at all.

Under normal choosings, the Grim Reaper was a person with a dark and unforgiving past, which made them the perfect candidates for the position of sending away souls. They were usually loners too, converting people similar to them. But that young man, younger than even this white-haired man, was cheerful and warm. He was perfectly comfortable being surrounded by living people too. Could there have been a mistake in choosing somewhere?

“Is this your first time coming here?” the waiter asked, snapping Raian out of his thoughts. Though the man’s gaze wasn’t on him or Milan, but the older white-haired man, and his eyes were wide and his cheeks had a dusting of pink.

Wait, like blushing?

No one, absolutely  _ no one, _ not even the little girl, failed to understand the implications behind the waiter’s sudden question and Jesse’s need to look away and nervously laugh.

“Um, why yes it is!”

_ ‘Oh, hell no.’ _

If what he believed was happening _ is indeed _ happening, Raian wanted absolutely no part of this. Not that he had anything against romance and relations and… all that other stuff (Ok, maybe he  _ did _ have a little against it, not that it should matter), but if there was one thing he hated more than anything, was uncomfortable situations such as the one he was in now.

If Raian didn’t know _how_ to be polite, he would have grumbled and buried his head behind his arms. Instead, he just felt himself deflate as the situation continued with the two white-haired men making flustered conversation, sneaking a quick peek to see if Milan was also listening… only to flinch when he realized Milan wasn’t there at all.

_ ‘Milan!’ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna celebrate cuz I first thought that this was our first chapter consisting a cast we're all familiar with, but then I realized this was Thaddeus and Jacinta's first time in the story XDD
> 
> So here are the facts!
> 
> 1) Turducken’s name, ‘Thaddeus’, means ‘Gift of God’ or ‘Miracle’. Her surname, ‘Madden’, is a reference to John Madden who popularized the dish in America.
> 
> 2) Jelly Art’s name, ‘Jacinta’ means ‘Hyacinth Flower’. Her surname is a reference to Hannah Glasse, the lady who first recorded Jelly.


	16. Curiosity Killed The Cat...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, our first chapter with no new characters :DD
> 
> List of Featured Characters in Order of Appearance:  
> Bonito Rice: Bonito Edo  
> Sakuramochi: Saki Hanami  
> Raindrop Cake: Raian Shingen  
> Mint Choco Chip: Milan Ricketts  
> Jelly Art (Briefly Mentioned By Name uwu): Jacinta Glasse  
> Turducken: Thaddeus Madden

Bonito hadn't been paying much attention in school lately, not since the funeral of his beloved grandfather.

To say he was heartbroken would have been an understatement compared to how he truly felt. He felt more than just ‘heartbroken’, he was confused and unsure as well. However, these feelings were mostly aimed towards a certain man he saw the night before his grandfather died, who he coincidentally saw again during the funeral.

It had been a brief ‘encounter’, if he could even call it that, and Bonito wasn’t even sure if what he saw had been real or not. It had only been three days since his grandfather’s funeral. He had seen him several times amongst the crowd, but every time they made eye contact, the mysterious man would look away.

At first, Bonito had assumed that he was here to pay his respects after that night and that it would be the last time they would see each other. It wasn’t until he got home after the funeral did he find out the man might have been there for a different reason.

That evening, Bonito saw a copy of the local newspaper sitting on his doorstep. He never paid much attention to the news, but it wasn’t until after he looked through that newspaper, and all the previous ones that his grandpa stored in the kitchen, did he realize that one thing they all had in common, was that they all took their obituary articles seriously. Each newspaper had a section of its own for the recently deceased, all complete with a photograph, a short biography, and information on the upcoming funeral. It was also then did he realize that the article including his grandpa was written by a man named Raian Shingen.

Bonito knew this man, for it was the same name he saw on the man’s crutch the night before his grandpa died. This led to Bonito conducting a small investigation of his own. Of course, as an everyday teenager with no connections or genius hacking skills, he didn’t discover much. He did, however, discover that all the obituary articles, for the past _seven_ years, were written by Raian Shingen.

Of course, Bonito couldn’t believe that to be a fact. He was certain Raian did not look a day over _twenty_ , which would mean he started writing these articles when he was around _thirteen_. That didn’t add up in Bonito’s head, but then he recalled his theory about Raian and the main reason why he wanted to talk to him so bad.

Bonito often wondered if what he saw that night was a trick of the light (Or more like the _lack_ of light), but he was sure he saw Raian phasing through several things in their home. The new information he found only helped but support his theory, that Raian was a ghost. At least, he was some kind of ghost that the boy could touch and see. But it wasn’t like anyone else at the funeral even noticed the man, unless he was good at making himself appear invisible.

Back to the point, if Bonito’s deduction about the newspapers were correct, then Raian was affiliated with the Nirvana Funeral Services. So if Bonito wanted answers from him, then all he would need to do was pay a visit to the funeral home, which led him to where he was today gathering things from the Bamboo Hall Market.

The brunette’s phone vibrated some time after he finished his subpar dinner at the supermarket's small café area, joined by a ringtone that sounded like taiko drums. Taking a look at the ID, he gave a hum of confusion but overall decided to answer the caller.

 _“Hey Bonito-kun!”_ the caller greeted. _"_ _I was almost worried you wouldn’t answer.”_

“Of course I would answer if it’s you, Saki,” he replied. “Is something wrong?”

 _“I should be asking you that,”_ his classmate and friend replied, sounding simultaneously worried and relieved.

“What do you mean?”

_“What else? You know that as president of the Health Committee, I want to make sure you’re okay, especially considering you’re my friend. Lately, you’re all distracted and barely noticing anything around you.”_

Although Bonito gladly appreciated the concern, Saki was like his personal lie detector, as in she could sense every lie he told. However, he certainly would hate to explain his thought process regarding Raian to her. He was going to try and lie anyways.

“Ah… I’m so sorry I worried you, Saki, but I’m fine, I promise.”

 _“Bo-ni-to-kun.”_ Dammit, he should’ve known even that would only make her more suspicious of him. That tone she used only when he’s caught in a lie just proved it. The brunette sighed in defeat.

“You’ll think I’m going crazy if I tell you what’s on my mind.”

_“Try me!”_

“I’ve been… _*sigh*_ Okay, I’m on a personal investigation.”

_‘Pleasedon’taskwhatinvestigationpleasedon’taskwhatinvestigationpleasedon’taskwhatinvestigation-’_

_“Does it involve the paranormal?”_ the pinkette on the other side of the connection.

That was certainly not the reply he expected from her, but he wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing yet.

“Um… yes…?”

 _“You’re not trying to find some kind of ritual to bring back your grandfather, are you?”_ By her tone, Bonito could tell she was both joking and hoping it wasn’t the case.

“N-No! Of course not!” he insisted, a little flustered by the assumption. “I know that there’s no such thing as resurrection. But… you could say my grandfather has a part in it. The day before he passed away, we had this… visitor.”

_“A visitor…? Wait, hold on, do you mean-?!”_

“N-No, it’s nothing like that! The authorities confirmed he indeed passed of old age. His heart stopped on its own, no poison or anything.” There was a sigh of relief on the other side of the line.

 _“O-Oh… well that’s good. But, who_ was _this visitor?”_

“I discovered that he works for the funeral services. I saw him there at my grandpa’s funeral.”

 _“The_ only _funeral service in the city, you mean? Nirvana?”_

“Yes. And the part that will make you think I’m crazy is… I think he’s some kind of ghost.”

 _“A ghost?!”_ Bonito had to pull his phone away from his ear at the outburst, not that it would matter much since he believed he’s deaf in one ear now . _“Why would a ghost visit your house?!”_

“That’s what I want to ask him. And… you’re not trying to shoot down my assumption?”

 _“Obviously I believe you! When do you make up stuff like that?! Never! But there’s no way I’m letting you confront a_ ghost _by yourself! Tell me where to meet with you, and we’ll see for ourselves!”_

Bonito was sure his eyes were the size of dinner plates at the declaration. He was grateful for Saki’s support and encouragement, thanking whatever god gave the world such a devoted angel, but he didn’t want her getting that deep in involvement with his own curiosity.

“Um… to be honest, I’m currently at the supermarket getting supplies for my investigation.”

 _“Oh! Ghosts are weak to salt, right?”_ To be honest, Bonito had no idea either. _“If he threatens to possess you or something, we can use it to fend him off!”_

“I… don’t think he would threaten to possess us, but I suppose there’s no harm in being safe about it.” More like the ghost would feel threatened, thinking back on how he tried to flee when Bonito caught him in the act. “Should I also bring an offering of sorts? Some kind of treat he might like?”

_“Not that I think a ghost would care all that much, but that’s a safe bet, if you ask me. Maybe something savory? If ghosts can even taste.”_

Bonito added a green tea roll to his shopping basket.

_“Okay, I’ll meet you at the store! The Bamboo Hall Market, right?”_

“Yes, that one.”

_“Okie-dokie!”_

🐈🐈🐈🐈🐈

In less than a few minutes, Saki arrived at the Bamboo Hall Market just in time to meet up with Bonito at the cashier. After exchanging greetings, the two started heading over to Nirvana Funeral Services. The duo lingered around the edge of the cemetery, where they hid behind a yew berry bush.

“This is it!” Saki cheered. “Now, what’s the plan?”

“Uhh…”

“You don’t have a plan?”

“To be fair, I did not think I would make it this far, let alone be able to prove it. It was surprising enough for me to see him again.”

“How do you know he’s friendly then?”

“It’s not like he was bad towards me and my grandpa. If anything, they acted like they knew each other. But I’m positive that was the first time I had ever seen this person.”

“How strange, and how old did you say he was again?” Saki asked.

“He doesn’t look a day over 20. However, he has been writing obituary articles for the funeral service for the last seven years!”

“That long?! He’s gotta be a ghost!” the pinkette exclaimed, looking determined, standing up from the bush the two hid behind.

“Wait! Saki hold on-!”

_SLAM!_

Bonito almost had a heart attack when he heard a nearby car door slam shut, and in an instant, he had grabbed Saki’s arm and dragged her back behind the bush.

“Milan… You are an _idiot!_ ” Bonito froze when he heard that voice. Despite the very few times he actually heard it, he recognized the distant voice to be Raian’s.

“Aw come on! You can’t really deny I got one hell of a scoop!” Raian’s companion, whom he assumed was named Milan, replied.

The two teens shared a look with one another. If ‘Scoop’ translated to ‘Information’, then what exactly would a funeral service need information on?

“If you call two men having an awkward conversation between themselves with the _daughter_ of one of the men witnessing the whole debacle before we even got our meal as a scoop, you have a walnut for a brain.” Although it sounded like Raian was scolding the other, the more he droned on with his ‘scolding’, the more it sounded like sarcasm. But if what happened _really_ happened, then Bonito would rather not know.

“Aw come on! It was the perfect opportunity!”

“What would you have done if they caught you?”

“What I would have done doesn’t matter now, ‘cuz I _didn’t_ get caught!” Raian’s companion answered with a laugh.

_‘Opportunity? Caught? They make it sound like… they’re getting involved in something intense…’_

“And besides… it was worth it, no?” Bonito took the risk to sneak a peek.

There he saw Raian, looking the exact same way Bonito remembered and in front of him stood a mischievous young man with mint-green hair, holding his phone in front of Raian’s unimpressed face with a triumphant grin.

He could hear something coming from the man’s phone, but he was too far away to make out anything. Raian’s eyes widened like he was actually surprised. But he suddenly flinched back when the sound abruptly changed to a loud ringtone composed of one of those earworm pop songs from the radio.

“Chillax, it’s just Jac.” The sour look on Raian’s face after that only proved to how _done_ he was with the other.

“I swear, half of the time, it feels more like I’m babysitting _you_.”

“Aw c’mon! Can’t I at least get some praise-!”

Their voices faded away as the two stepped through the funeral home’s door.

“That was… an experience in itself,” Saki commented, looking a bit dumbfounded. “Who was that other guy?”

“That… I don’t know who he is… but he seems… um… ‘close’ with Mr. Shingen-”

“Ahem.” The two teens jumped and screamed at the voice that came from behind them. They quickly turned around, and they looked at a woman with a dusting of freckles on her face, bright red hair and wearing black clothes.

“Hmm? I saw you at Mr. Edo’s funeral,” the woman stated, looking at the brunette. It took Bonito a few minutes to realize that he _did_ see her at the funeral… As a matter of fact, he does believe she’s the funeral director, which would mean- _oh no_.

As if knowing that he knew who she was, the woman practically plucked them out of the bush and began ushering them towards the door.

“Bonito- _kun_!” Saki whispered to him with panic present on her face, as the two were guided up to the porch of the funeral home. Bonito couldn’t help but regret letting Saki come with him on this investigation, but it was far too late to regret the past, because the next thing they knew, they were in the building’s cozy lobby.

“I hope kids these days aren’t going on dates revolving around spying on people,” the director giggled. Saki’s face of panic quickly changed to one of a blushing, timid girl with a crush.

“I-It’s nothing like that, ma’am! We’re not dating at all! I came to help my friend!” she exclaimed.

“Then why did he bring dessert with him?”

“Um… it’s for-”

“Miss Madden, what’s with all the commoti- Oh…”

All three individuals looked at the source of the new, yet somewhat familiar voice.

In had come the mint-haired man from earlier, and upon seeing Bonito and Saki, but mostly Bonito, a sh*t-eating found its way on his face.

 _‘He totally thinks we’re dating too…’_ Bonito thought with an internal groan. However, his next sentence seemed to prove him wrong.

“I know you, kid.” Bonito was sure his brows shot right up to his hairline, “Lemme guess, you’re here to see Raian, riiight?”

Bonito had not a single clue _how_ this complete stranger figured his entire plan out just with one look, but his shock must have been evident, because next thing he knew, the man was laughing, but something about it felt a little forced, a little nervous.

“How did you-”

“Ahhh, so _this_ is the kid,” the funeral director, Miss Madden, said with a look of realization on her face. She looked like she was enjoying herself, which explained the small laugh that escaped her.

Bonito and Saki shared a bewildered look with one another, completely unsure of what was happening now and what to do next. However, judging from the fact the two seem to know exactly who Bonito was and what his deal is, he assumes the next best thing is to get to the point.

“U-Um… May we speak to Mr. Shingen?” Thankfully, it seems fate was on their side as Miss Madden gave Milan a look of confirmation, sending the greenette bounding through the halls.

“Perhaps he will finally get out of this rut he put himself in after talking to you, young man,” Miss Madden said with a small smile.

Just as she said that, Milan returned pushing a very livid Raian in a wheelchair. The crippled man had many different expressions on his face; exasperation, weary, _distressed_. He clearly did not wish to be here, and the fact he probably knew of Bonito and Saki’s presences were most likely not helping.

“One grumpy old man coming right up!” Milan cheered as he stationed Raian in front of the two teens.

“You idiot, did you forget I’m younger than you?”

“Now now, gentlemen,” Miss Madden interjected. “Let us not fight in front of our guests.”

The funeral director seemed friendly, and the greenette certainly relished in the company, however, Bonito and Saki were not dumb. All three funeral workers seemed a little tense despite their friendly dispositions.

It was time to get to the point.

“Mr. Shingen, you are a ghost, right?”

The expression on all the adults became blank, or a mix of horror and trying not to show it.

_‘Maybe that was a little too straightforward.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot Twist: Raian is more pissed at the fact Milan left him to Boston and Jesse's awkward flirting than the fact Milan wandered off X33
> 
> (Also we hope you enjoyed the chapter and plz leave some food- I mean a comment on your way out X33)


	17. ...But Satisfaction Brought it Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at t again with the league of death! Plus Bonito and Saki :DD
> 
> List of Featured Characters in Order of Appearance:  
> Bonito Rice: Bonito Edo  
> Sakuramochi: Saki Hanami  
> Raindrop Cake: Raian Shingen  
> Mint Choco Chip: Milan Ricketts  
> Turducken: Thaddeus Madden  
> Jelly Art (Briefly Mentioned again): Jacinta Glasse

The tension in the air was so thick, Bonito could have probably cut it with a knife.

As the seconds ticked away, the urge to apologize profusely and run out the door grew and grew, until finally, Raian spoke.

“And why do you think that?” The cold, accusatory tone in his voice was enough to send shivers up both Bonito and Saki’s spines, a complete 180o from that nervous and fearful tone during that night.

Bonito bit his lip out of nervousness. He came so far already, he couldn’t stop now.

“I saw you phase through my wall and the front door, as well as through several other objects. Additionally, I find it quite unlikely that the press would allow a thirteen-year-old to write for them,” he answered, trying his best to keep the fearful stuttering to a minimum. “That’s enough evidence, right?”

Bonito was sincerely praying that he hit it right on the nail without sounding crazy. One second passed, two seconds passed, until-

“He _caught_ you? Why didn’t you tell me about this, Raian?” Miss Madden scolded, though it didn’t sound as cross as expected.

“Madam, Raian wasn’t feeling well during the whole thing, not that he would admit to not being at his best,” the mint-haired man explained as Raian shot him a light glare that looked more like a betrayed pout than anything.

“So… does this mean you’re really a ghost?” Saki asked with wide eyes. Instead of confirming their suspicions, Raian sighed a troubled sigh.

“First of all, no. I’m not a ghost, at least I’m not like those spirits in the cemetery,” Raian began as Bonito caught Saki looking outside with wide eyes. “I’m alive, for one thing. The same thing goes with Milan and Miss Madden.”

“You can basically say that we can’t age anymore, however, we are capable of altering our physical appearances to look like any age we want” Milan chimed in, earning a glare from the pale redhead. “Though keep in mind, we can certainly still be killed.”

“So… if you’re not ghosts, then what are you?” Saki asked.

“I’m a banshee, an envoy to warn people when their time on this earth is over. We shed tears and cry to warn our target _‘we’re coming’_. The phasing, however, is not something banshees are typically born with the ability to do, so banshees who are ‘chosen’ are required to learn to phase.”

“The Madam is also a banshee, but she’s more powerful than Raian,” the mint greenette spoke up again, walking around the group. “She’s what they call a ‘demi-god,’ very special classification of our kind. Though it’s in debate whether or whether not they’re anomalies at all or beyond that.”

Both Bonito and Saki could feel their brows rising to their hairlines. The whole ‘Demi-God’ thing sounded like a pretty big deal. Instead of asking for further elaboration, however, the young brunette looked at Milan.

“And… what about you?” Bonito questioned, though he was worried to know.

“Well, I’m-”

“A mutt,” Raian interrupted. “He’s a mix.”

“Raian!” Milan gave a snort of annoyance.

“It’s actually not that unheard of, in case you think he’s a rarity. This one is half horse, half witch.”

“ _More accurately_ , a dullahan and a Cryo Witch,” the mint-haired man interjected.

“Um, what exactly are those?” Bonito asked, “Like, I _think_ I understand what a Cryo Witch is, but I’m unfamiliar with dullahans.”

“Well, I’m glad you asked!!!”

“Milan,” Raian interjected. “Please give them the short version and not the ungodly long version.” Upon hearing that, Milan acted out a very fake gasp.

“Why would you assume such things?! After all these years, do you really think _that_ lowly of me?” Raian gave Milan the most unamused, deadpan look. It was almost comical when Miss Madden stared at the dullahan with the same look. “Fair enough. Anyways, dullahans are basically headless men and horses, and our job is basically to assist the ‘chosen’ banshee. Meanwhile, Cryo Witches are descendants of nymphs, and as the name suggests, we’re basically witches with very strong ice and snow powers!”

“So like that one lady from that one popular movie?” Saki asked jokingly.

“Basically!”

“H-Hold on… if you’re a dullahan, i.e a headless horseman-”

“Technically, headless horsemen and their horses are the same entity.”

“If you’re a headless horseman _and_ horse,” Bonito continued, “Then why do you have a head?”

“Ah, well I’m glad you asked!” Milan said with a cheer, before pouting when Raian began to explain for him.

“Over time, dullahans have evolved to gain more human-like forms. However, in his true form, Milan still doesn’t have a head.”

“But~!” Milan gleefully interjected, slipping off his aviator shades in the process. “Despite our human forms, it’s still quite common for dullahans to be born missing… _certain parts_.”

Bonito and Saki’s minds blanked when he said that. It sounded a little ominous, but also a little mischievous. Just before they could ask for an explanation, Milan began to talk again-

“Catch!”

-And tossed something towards Bonito.

The teen almost missed the object, but thankfully, he managed to catch it in his palms, holding it up so both him and Saki to see.

…

It took the two a few seconds to realize what the object was, and when they did, the two teens did nothing to hide their horror.

“IS THAT AN EAR?!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!” Bonito quickly dropped the dismembered ear onto the rug as Milan laughed his ass off in the background.

“Now now, Milan, there’s no need to frighten them,” the funeral director spoke with a somewhat amused smile.

“Calm down,” Raian spoke up. “It’s just a prosthetic.”

“A _what_?”

“A prosthetic,” Milan answered with a chuckle, picking up the ear and re-attaching it to his head. “Things to replace a missing body part.” Bonito wasn’t amused by the prank, and neither was Saki.

“You’re so mean!!!” she said with a pout.

“Are there any other prosthetics we should know about?” Bonito questioned. He’d rather know if the next object the dullahan tossed at him would be a prosthetic or an actual dismembered limb.

“Juuust my right eye,”

“Good to know.”

“I have another question,” the pinkette announced. “If Milan has some sort of ‘True Form’, what about Mr. Shingen and Miss Madden? Or is it just a dullahan thing?”

“‘True Forms’ are not just a dullahan thing, many others also have ‘true forms’ of our own, but for special ‘chosen’ Banshees such as Raian, no, he does not have a ‘true form’ of his own,” the bright redhead answered. “I on the other hand...”

The funeral director didn’t really finish her sentence, but the teens’ questions were quickly answered when a pair of short, but broad black wings came out from her back, startling the two teens. “All demi-gods have wings for some reason. Some people refer to us as ‘angels’ for that reason.”

Bonito and Saki stared at Miss Madden with wide eyes, almost unable to comprehend it as reality. What they were seeing in front of them resembled something more out of a movie or game than something from real life.

“You can find a few demi-gods in a small area alone, depending on where you live,” Milan pointed out. “How many are in this city now, Madam?”

“Including myself, I can sense four more, so there’s five of us.”

“FIVE?!” the teens gasped.

“One Dryad, one Dragon, and two Witches. And while I cannot pinpoint where they are, their presence is here.”

Bonito was completely baffled. It had been easy for him to believe ghosts were real since he had seen a man shift in front of him. Now, he was learning that all sorts of creatures from the folklores he’s heard were real, and he could feel his brain becoming numb from all the information.

Did it stop him from asking more questions? No, not really.

“So uh… you all keep mentioning something about being ‘chosen’, what’s that all about?”

“Ah… right. _That_.” The pale-redhead bit his lip.

“Despite the fact that banshees are not common creatures to come across, only a few are actually chosen by the leaders to bear the message of death. How many are chosen mostly depends on the size of the leader’s territory, the rate of death in the area, and the banshee’s work ethic,” Raian explained. 

“Leader?” Bonito spoke up. “You mean Miss Madden?” To say he wasn’t surprised when she laughed would have been a lie. The funeral director was laughing as if she had just heard an amusing joke.

“Of course not, I’m just a demi-goddess banshee.”

“I wouldn’t say _‘just’..._ ” the lower banshee tried to argue before being interrupted.

“We’re referring to the _true_ leader, the god of death, _the Grim Reaper_.”

In all honesty, Bonito and Saki should have seen the mentions of a grim reaper coming. However, it did not change the fact that it baffled them nonetheless.

“There’s only one in every certain amount of territory, and they govern all the souls and undead in that territory,” Milan told the two kids. “They’re the only one able to turn living people into members of their services, like Raian here. He was picked by the previous Grim Reaper.”

“What do you mean ‘previous’? Aren’t they immortal like you three?” Saki questioned.

“That doesn’t mean they want the position forever,” Madden chuckled. “They can retire from being the Grim Reaper when they feel they’re ready to pass on the responsibility.”

“I think I get it…” Bonito commented. “But then, who is the current Grim Reaper? Are they not here?”

Something about that question cause Raian to cringe upon hearing it and something about it worried the teen a little.

“The previous Grim Reaper retired five years ago with no heir or heiress, leaving behind the chaos and consequences of his absence for _us_ to deal with.” Something about the way the pale-redhead said those words seemed… spiteful as if he held some sort of grudge against their previous leader.

“Hold on… consequences?” Saki questioned.

Raian looked as if he were struggling to explain, so Milan took the wheel.

“What he means is that we were left to reap and collect souls for the past _five_ years, which- trust me- absolutely _sucks_ when you don’t have the Grim Reaper’s perk!”

“That means… that night, you weren’t just there to warn us of my grandfather’s incoming death…” Bonito trailed off, realization dawning on him. “You were also there to reap his soul in place of your missing leader!”

Raian didn’t say a word, or even looked at the boy.

“Unfortunately, we can’t properly do that,” Miss Madden tacked, guilt present in her voice. “We can’t truly free their souls like the Grim Reaper can. All we can do is bring them here. They can cross the other side on their own, but it takes decades for that.”

“So my grandpa…”

“Yes, his soul is here, waiting for our leader to guide him to where he will truly rest. And he’s one of the hundreds that have come since the previous Grim Reaper left.”

Something regarding her answer caused Bonito to fall silent, as if his mood was performing a relapse to grief from his grandfather’s funeral.

Was it a good thing his grandfather was still around? A bad thing?

As if sensing the sudden damper of his mood, Milan spoke up again.

“Speaking of which, I got a photo of the new Grim Reaper right here!” the mint greenette announced, holding up his phone. “We’ve got a young one this time around! The boss looks only a little older than these two!”

“A _young_ Grim Reaper? In all my centuries, the Grim Reaper has never been any younger than their early forties.” Bonito and Saki didn’t dare to ask how long the director had lived for.

“Not just that, but he’s part of the family who runs the bistro! Full of witches! That’s why you couldn’t fully sense him, Madam!”

“Not to mention the ‘head’ witch seems very protective of him,” Raian added on, but glaring at Milan.

“But the last part! Now that’s what really threw me for a loop! Our boss is a witch too! A White Witch, ironically!”

“What?!” Miss Madden’s composure completely broke, overcome with shock. “A Grim Reaper from another anomaly?! That’s also never happened before! They’ve always been a normal human before they’re picked! And a White Witch of all things?!”

“What sort of witch is a White Witch?” Saki felt the need to ask.

“A person who can heal wounds and even take life energy from one living thing and give it to another,” Raian explained. “So it’s ironic for a White Witch, tricksters of life, to be chosen as the next Grim Reaper.”

“Are you sure you didn’t make a mistake?” Thaddeus asked.

“No, we felt it the moment he walked into the room,” Milan stated, tapping something on his phone. “I even managed to sneak a recording of him. Take a look.”

The phone’s screen was held out for everyone to see. A young man with long, pale hair, green eyes and a strange scar was in what looked like a kitchen area with a brunette woman.

The young man looked almost livid, and although the woman looked as if she was paying him no mind with her looking at her hands, her constant glances towards him said otherwise.

 _“They felt just like… just like those_ things _that kept whispering in my ears,”_ the man spoke, his voice trembling. _“The only comfort I find in_ this _situation is that everyone can actually see them.”_

 _“And you told Boston the same thing?”_ the woman asked. _“I’m assuming because he brought in the order instead.”_

_“I couldn’t help it… it just… Something felt wrong.”_

The brunette woman raised a brow.

 _“Wrong?”_ she asked, concern laced through her words.

 _“W-Well, it’s not a_ bad _wrong… but I don’t think it’s a_ good _wrong either.”_ He struggled to explain, moving his hands in hand gestures that didn’t really mean anything. _“It’s a strange type of wrong, the type of wrong that feels… familiar… yet you don’t understand why it’s familiar… it’s like… those voices.”_

_“Do you need us to ask them to leave?”_

_“N-no, they’re not alone. And Sheng seems to know them. Wouldn’t it be rude to send them away for such a petty reason of me feeling off around customers?”_

_“Tullio, if you’re uncomfortable around them, there’s no reason to stay around them.”_

The man, Tullio, suddenly froze. 

_“Tullio?”_

_“Let’s talk later,”_ the man suggested, picking up a serving tray from the countertop and brushing the non-existent dust off his apron. Just as he did so, the camera began to shake and wobble, until finally, the video ended.

“And that’s when I dipped, ‘cuz I was 60% sure he finally picked up on my presence,” Milan explained with a dismissing shrug.

“Tullio…” Ms. Madden muttered. “I feel as if I’ve heard that name before…”

Clearly, it seemed as if Milan’s attempts at lightening the mood had led the others to forget Bonito and Saki were there, at least until Bonito spoke up again.

“I am… so confused.”

The next few moments had approached so suddenly, the two teens had to blink once, then twice before they realized what they were seeing was indeed a reality.

Raian had so abruptly slouched forwards. His whole body shuddered and shook, almost as if even the weakest of winds could even knock him down.

 _‘Is he cold…?’_ Bonito wondered incredulously. It seemed like an unlikely choice, the temperature was the same as it always was!

But then he heard it.

The sound of soft, repressed sobbing.

“W-What’s going on-?!” Saki asked the other two, only to falter in her words when she saw Miss Madden, someone so cool and composed, shedding several tears of her own.

Milan looked fairly unaffected by whatever crying disease the other two caught, so the teens looked at him expectantly, feeling a little bit of anxiety with the worried look on his face.

“Don’t worry… This… this is natural for banshees,” he explained. A realization dawned on them.

“Does… Does this mean someone died?” Bonito asked. Milan nodded solemnly.

“And judging how bad it’s affecting them, there must be several casualties.”

“I suppose now i-is the time for you two to run along,” the funeral director ushered, sitting up from her seat to brush the nonexistent dust off her dress with her hand and wipe her tears away with the other.

“But- Hold on! We still have so many questions!” Bonito insisted,

“W-We are aware,” Raian replied, drying his face with his sleeve. “But right now, we don’t quite have the time to answer them all.”

As if sensing Bonito’s disappointment Milan spoke up once again.

“Hey, don’t look so down, kid! When it’s all over, you can come back again and we’ll welcome you with open arms!”  
“D-Don’t encourage them, Milan.”

“You’re not my dad, Raian!”

“Doesn’t change the fact you work under me as my a-assistant.”

“Ouch.”

“Settle down, you two,” Miss Madden interjected. “Raian, you and Milan go to the scene and collect the souls. I’ll be here in the meantime preparing for the oncoming funerals. While you’re at it, Milan, tell Jacinta to keep an eye out on the new God of Death.”

“Will do, Miss Madden!” the mint-greenette replied as he pulled out his phone.

“W-Wait! Hold on! We want to help!” Saki interjected, surprising everyone in the room, including Bonito because he doesn’t recall agreeing to be involved in the affairs of the legion of death! But then again, he supposed he had already been involved ever since that night with Raian and his grandfather.

On the other hand, Raian didn’t look too convinced with her persistence.

“ _You_ want to help _us_? Not to be rude, but we just dropped a giant bombshell onto you two and you’re not even going to sit down and mull over it for a little?” he questioned.

Bonito had to admit, Raian wasn’t wrong. After hearing that stuff like ghosts, banshees, dullahans, grim reapers, and other fictional creatures exist in real life, he’s not ready to jump right back in.

“Please, we insist that you take time to digest everything we’ve told you,” the bright redhead said, wiping away a few more tears. “And you must make a promise not to tell a soul about our world. This city isn’t the most friendly to beings like us, our exposure is our _death_.”

_..._

_‘Death…’_ This whole time they were talking about death, whether it be actual death, or creatures who lived by it, hearing that even those who solely exist to serve it can be cruelly killed, no matter how powerful they may be, it felt so… surreal. Bonito was sure he wasn’t among those who wished death upon them, and no way Saki was either, no matter how conflicted they felt now. As the two walked back home, they didn’t bother thinking if it was right for them to be involved in this, because either way, they _wanted_ to be involved with this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The user of this account is currently spiralling into insanity and will be back shortly"  
> -TSS_AA
> 
> Please leave a comment on your way out ;w;  
> SCS and I really do appreciate the food :'))


	18. A Deal with the Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a while!
> 
> List of Featured Characters in Order of Appearances:
> 
> Cassata: Cassiano "Cassi" Palermo
> 
> Though Not Named But Obvious at this Point:
> 
> Wiskey: Winsor Akua Vita-Daniel
> 
> There's one more, but we're going to keep him secret for a little while longer, tee hee~

The room was engulfed in darkness, the only light around came from the moon’s rays filtering through his bedroom window, and the light of his phone’s screen as Cassiano stared at the number displayed on it with a lot of contradicting emotions.

On one hand, he truly felt as if this bold move was the only way to help Pista. On the other hand, however… he didn’t trust them, or, at least, he didn’t trust _him_ . He didn’t get the chance to speak to the other, but if he was aiding _him_ , Cassiano had a feeling that he couldn't be trusted either. Whoever that was, he knew _too much_ about his friend’s condition, and that raised one too many red flags in his mind.

That didn’t change the fact he was desperate nonetheless. Thinking back to that eye that should’ve been familiar to him… That sea green looked like he was staring into the eye of a doll more than a living being… Pista always had a gleam of wonder and childish mannerism, but there wasn’t a trace of it left, not even a speck!

Pain shot through his head, overthinking of what he should do, and he fell to the side to hit the comforters of his bed. He didn’t want to think further on the matter, and yet, he couldn’t tear his mind away from it either.

🍰🥃🥛🍦

_It had been so sudden… The jump between his previous situation in the Nurse’s office and the situation outside the school would have given him a serious whiplash, if whiplashes were a mental thing, that is. It had been rapid sessions of mysteries thrusted upon him, with no clues on how to solve them._

“You’re Cassiano Palermo, correct? I heard from a little birdie that someone’s reunion with an old friend did not go as planned~”

_That was how their conversation started._

_Now that Cas had more time to think about it, the man’s appearance slowly came together in his mind. Of course, there were his infamous, glowing red eyes, which seemed to hold some sort of intent that appeared more malicious than anything. The man was tall, perhaps a few inches taller than Cas, with pale skin and long, beige-_ almost white _\- hair pulled back into a ponytail and secured with a brown hair tie._

_The young man was dressed in a chocolate brown shirt, with a white sweater vest over it, and a large black coat with a thick fur trim, which looked appropriate for the weather they stood in, unlike the pair of jeans and combat boots he wore on his lower half or the fingerless gloves over his hands._

_In Cas’ opinion, it was certainly an odd choice of clothing, probably a lot odder than the fact he was wearing a pair of red, photochromatic goggles on his head, and a pair of circular glasses on his eyes, destroying whatever sort of aesthetic the man had gone for._

_“Who… are you?” Cas had cautiously asked after what felt like several centuries had passed._

“A doctor, you can say,” _the man told the boy._

_He wasn’t too sure why at the time, but Cas had doubted that claim the moment he heard it._

_“Is there… something you want?” he questioned._

‘Of _course,_ he wants something! He wouldn’t be pinning you in place if he didn’t want anything!’

_“Stop it, you’re scaring him.” Cas had watched in confusion as the man seemed to be… scolding himself? Cas was unsure if it was just a trick of the light, or something else, but something in the man’s gaze changed. His expression had softened a little, and his eyes held less malice than before._

_“Forgive me, this idiot is on the twisted side.” It was almost like he was talking to two different people in the same body. His eyes seem to change as well, a less vibrant red than moments ago, and back to that darker, sinister glow Cas first saw._ “In any case, let’s just say we know the boy in question because of similar interests. I’m just here to offer my help. But first-”

_Something in the man’s eyes changed as if he had finally returned from whatever stupor he had gone through._

“Whoops, my mind slipped for a moment,” _he said with a chuckle and a grin that looked more menacing than assuring. It seemed as if he finally stopped talking to himself._

_“Why should I get help from you?” Cas blurted out, unsure of what should be done in such a puzzling situation._

“Because I can see that this is troubling you beyond normal circumstances. This boy you care about, he means a lot to you, doesn’t he? And that’s taking it from a ‘boy’ with feelings for another boy.”

_The redhead instantly froze. There was no way this stranger could know that much about him, not when this was the first time that Cas had ever seen the guy._

_As if sensing his discomfort, the stranger laughed._

“I can assure you, it does not take a genius to put two and two together~”

_“What are you getting at?”_

“What I’m getting at, is that you are clearly distraught by your dear friend’s amnesia, something I can gladly help to cure… under the right circumstances, of course…” _the man replied with a hearty laugh._

“All we need is for you to keep tabs on him, and to report to us weekly. Can you do that?”

_Cassiano bit his lip, mind torn between his few options. Noticing this, the man thankfully backed away._

“I see how it is… Ah, well I suppose I do not mind waiting a little longer… catch!” _That last word had been so sudden, Cas was surprised that he had even caught whatever the man tossed at him._

_He stared at it once… then twice… and after the third time. Cas immediately realized what it was and began searching through his bag, only to stop once he realized the object the stranger had tossed at him was indeed his phone._

_“How… did you get my phone?” he questioned, but all the man did was laugh at his reaction and walk away._

“Once you’ve made your decision, do give me a call~”

_Cas had been so tempted to chase after him, but as if fate came calling, his parents had arrived at that very moment to pick him up._

_He didn’t see the stranger after that. The swirling thoughts and feelings led him to have a frustrating argument in his own head._

🍰🥃🥛🍦

_‘This is clearly some kind of blackmail!’_ one side of his brain screamed. _‘There’s no way he could know about your identity in such detail!’_

 _‘But he never said he was going to expose that information,’_ the other side argued. 

_‘He knows too much! “Similar interests,” my rear end! He just wants to get to Pista!’_

_‘But Pista needs this.’_

_‘Does he, or do YOU?’_

Cas growled in frustration, and he ended up chucking the baseball on his bed across the room, where it bounced off the wall with a loud bang and rolled back over the carpet.

He sighed, clearly too tired to keep thinking as he buried himself deeper into the comfort of his pillows.

He stared at his phone once more. The number on it glared back at him, tauntingly.

Cas couldn’t even find the strength to shut it off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of short, but it gets the plot thicker.
> 
> 1) Whiskey's middle and first-last name is a reference to his coverup human name in Pizza's backstory, 'Akua Vita', which sounds a lot like 'Aqua Vitae', otherwise known as Whiskey. His second-last name is a reference to 'Jack Daniel's Tennessee Whiskey’.


	19. Ribbon Kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoop! Whoop! Whoop! Another chapter with a completed cast!!! :DD
> 
> List of Featured Characters in Order of Appearance:  
> Margarita: Blythe Cooper  
> Pasta: Pia Cavatelli  
> Oyster: Javier Devon  
> Borscht: Bohdana Uszka  
> Stargazey Pie: Nichola Cornwall  
> Black Pudding: Olivia Casey
> 
> And although they either did not appear or their names were never mentioned;  
> Spaghetti: Salvatore Lagana  
> Pizza: Pista Esposito-Lagana

Blythe busied herself late in the morning, scouring the bedrooms for the laundry that needed to be cleaned. She had a small skip in her step as she hummed softly to an unknown tune. The clothes in the laundry basket tucked under her arm bounced slightly with each step.

“Ah, Miss Cooper!” Turning around, her eyes locked on to the approaching butler. “Would you like me to aid you in retrieving the laundry?”

“I got it, Pia, but thank you,” the maid replied. “Have you seen Javier though?”

“Lord Devon is in the training room again, despite orders from Master Salvatore.”

“Why does he go down there so often? Is he really that devoted in following the Master’s footsteps?” she asked curiously. Pia quickly averted his eyes, as if her innocent gaze right now was the most lethal weapon in the world.

“Ah… well, you see… It’s more… complicated than that.” The other blonde couldn’t say it to the girl, knowing how innocent and naive she was for her age. It certainly didn’t help when she innocently cocked her head to the side, and Pia could feel how hard it was to suppress that sigh of relief when Blythe shrugged in acceptance.

“I suppose that’s understandable, given what the Master’s done for all of us,” the young woman said. His eyes instantly flew up to the thin, green ribbon in her hair.

“Y-Yeah…” Pia trailed off as his mind wandered a little, filling up with the image of tall trees, long roads, and-

He quickly shook the thought away.

“A-Anyhow, I shall take my leave and help Miss Uszka to prepare lunch.”

“Okay. I’ll see you then, Pia.” Blythe continued her route down the hall, allowing Pia to run the tail of the ribbon in his hair through his fingers.

“This life under Master Salvatore… It still beats life before that,” he muttered quietly to himself as a sad, almost melancholic smile found its way onto his face. He proceeded to walk in the opposite direction as Blythe.

#  🍝🦪🍝🦪

If someone were to ask Javier concerning his opinions regarding Bohdana Uszka, he would tell them that Miss Uszka was quite an interesting individual. 

She wasn’t an  _ official _ member of the gang, but her bar was a place of operations for Salvatore, and she was his informant. The lavender boy would even say he trusted her more than anyone, even though he kept secrets from her too. But then again, everyone always had those particular skeletons in the closet that never see the light of day again.

Javier’s wooden sword came straight down on the flour sac dummy in front of him. Had he been using his full strength, it would’ve sent flour all over the place. However, he had a certain spectator this particular afternoon during school hours, so he forced himself to hold back.

“Dear, I have asked this many times, but are you still sure you want to serve Salvy for the rest of your life?” Bohdana asked the teenager.

“I’m certain!” Javier insisted, trying to sound as determined as possible.

“And it’s not just out of obligation of repaying him, is it?”

“What a stupid reason! Salvatore doesn’t care about that crap! I want to join because I want to!” He turned a 180 to whack at the dummy behind him.

“Is it just to be useful to him, then?” Her words made him freeze. To be useful to Salvatore was being… important to anyone. The wooden sword fell to the floor before Javier slumped back with a thud, pulling up his knees.

“That’s all we are, besides that son of his. We’re just tools for him to use in the grand scheme of things.”

“Yes, a lot of us are ‘tools’, as he so often puts it, but one can’t deny he’s protective of us as well by the way he treats all of us,” the bar owner stated. The comment had the lavender boy running his fingers over the ribbon tied lopsidedly around his wrist.

He bit his lip from the utter helplessness he was feeling. A part of him felt betrayed and useless and just, disappointed-  _ No. _ That wasn’t the right word.

Javier felt… like… a balloon, that just lost all its air. Yes, that’s how he felt. He felt as if his entire spirit had become denser than air, and his heart weighed more than it should, almost as if it had turned to stone.

He stopped biting down his lip when he began tasting copper.

“It’s just… I just… wished that he would let me help for once,” he told her as he curled into an even smaller ball. “Finding the truth that society buries, and all that heartlessness they deny.”

“Even if it means you will one day take a life for it?” Bohdana questioned with a firm look in her eyes. 

_ ‘No.’ _ Javier bit his already abused lip once more.

“Y-Yes…” He couldn’t help but cringe at the waver in his voice.

“Perhaps Salvy doesn’t want you getting involved in the gang to protect your innocence. Have you thought about that? He had been trying to convince you to take part in high school with Pista and Nichola.”

“Innocence?” He looked up at the woman with a glare. “You call an orphan who was kicked out by his heartless family because he was considered bad luck innocent?”

He didn’t realize how bitter his words sounded until he actually had the time to rethink them. The loose ribbon suddenly felt like it was constricting his wrist, tied too tight.

“It’s better than being sold by your family or even about to die at your family’s hands. Though I can’t say that any of you can top what Pia has been through, Salvy wouldn’t have taken you in just to take advantage of how ignorant you could be from your crises. His genuine, gentle side can’t stand the young being abused in such a way.

“Didn’t you notice that he only takes in children, and not adults? Bryer, for example, who had lost his parents and about to lose everything, even Pista, an orphan who was hollow when Salvy first met him. He gave them his protection and shelter, with the freedom to come into their own. Though I have no clue what Nichola and Pista want in their future.”

“What are you getting at, Uzska?” Javiar questioned with a light glare. All Bohdana did in response was look away with a wistful smile. He decided to give up trying to get something out of her, knowing that even if he did, it would likely only confuse him more.

“I’m getting a snack,” the teen stated, getting off the floor and leaving the wooden sword behind. The blonde watched the boy silently leave the room.

#  🍝🦪🍝🦪

_ “Mama, Papa, what’s going to happen to us?” _

_ Giant, shadowy, humanoid figures started stepping towards the black-haired child. _

_ “M-Mama? Papa?” _

_ More shadows started surrounding the trembling child. _

_ “Wh-why am I going away?” _

_ The shadows started reaching out with red-tipped fingers, as if to grab out. The little girl started curling up, completely terrified of what was going to happen to her. _

_ A white figure suddenly came forward, shielding the child from the hands. Red hair stood out from the white figure, and the child quickly reached out to grab out their cape. _

Ashy eyes snapped open the moment she had grabbed a hold of the cloth. Only instead of a cape, it was the sleeve of her housemate she had a hold of.

“You fell asleep on the ride home again, Nichola,” the student council member chuckled. “You should really go to bed earlier than you are. At this rate, you’ll be like Javier, all sluggish and grouchy all day.”

Nichola looked to the other side of the limo, where her “personal” nurse was sitting across from them. The woman looked ready to jump to her side at any moment, medical kit at her side and worry flashing in her eyes.

“I’m okay, Olivia,” she assured the woman. “Just a dream, and just like before… he saved me.”

Olivia’s face seemed to soften at her reply.

“He saved all of us, dear… from nightmares you can’t begin to imagine,” the woman said in a quiet volume as to not actually be heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave us a comment! ^u^  
> It's our lifeblood :'))


	20. The Dragon's Rabbit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LIST OF CHARACTERS:  
> Longjing Tea: Ling Jiangsu  
> Zitui Bun: Zan Shanxi  
> Wuyi Da Hong Pao: Wuyi Fujian
> 
> MENTIONED:  
> Dragon & Phoenix: Xiang Longfeng  
> Dragon’s Beard Candy: Daiyu Han  
> Realgar Wine: Ru Xionghuang
> 
> Check some chapters for updates. Added summaries for story lines.

The old shrine outside of the bustling city below was _-_ as far as the white-haired shrine keeper knew- the most tranquil place for miles around. The weekend’s early morning welcomed a light blanket of snow with a cloud dotted sky and the visible moon behind them. The hot spring in the back of the shrine gave warmth to the area and a refuge from the cold recesses of the night, not that he needed it right now.

It had been around seven years since the young man had moved from the city to the shrine of the dragons. Their leader had been very kind to him… Well, that was expected of his lover, who he had known since he was very little.

He was quickly pulled from his musings when a pair of warm, pale hands wrapped themselves around his broom-wielding ones, dwarfing his fingers in a gentle hold. The smoky breath of the person behind him eased the shorter person into leaning against their chest. A thick, green cloak draped over his shoulders as the smell of smoke thickened slightly.

“Good morning, Ling.” The figure behind him chuckled, moving his hands to gently wrap his arms around the shrine keeper’s waist. The person’s body became warmer, as though the white-haired man was being cocooned by their large figure.

“You’re shifting again,” the shinshoku teased, raising a hand behind him to pet a cheek that felt smooth and yet scaly. His rose-colored eyes trailed up to the face of a man with sharp, pale green eyes, pale skin and dark, branch-like horns on his head. Along his cheeks though were pearl-yellow scales that shimmered like sequins in the moonlight.

“Nothing to hide, my love,” the dragon said in a hushed voice.

“You’re in an awfully cuddly mood this morning,” the white-haired man commented. “Is something the matter?”

“Thinking of how open Ru is now that he’s interacting with Xiang.” 

As guilty as he would have felt if he had admitted it out loud, he had almost forgotten entirely about the newest addition to the shrine; a peculiar raven-haired witch that had been deemed ‘too dangerous’ for him to interact with until further notice. Ling’s words, not his.

“How is he faring?”

“Improving, but I’m afraid it will be a little longer before you can meet him for yourself. He’s still learning to control his energy, even with all the protection on him.”

The white-haired male nodded.

“That’s good to hear, love.”

The two fell into a blissful silence for a moment before Ling opened his mouth to speak once more. The voice that came wasn’t his though.

“Zaaaaan, are you almost done?”

Zan felt the pale man groan in his chest, causing the smaller person to chuckle softly at his displeasure. A black-haired man in white and red shiny robes came up to them, and he held an amused look on the pair.

“Wuyi, whatever you’re about to say, don--!” he tried to warn, but was completely ignored.

“Oh my, it’s not even 6 in the morning yet, and you can’t keep your hands to yourself, Ling?” the ravenette teased.

Zan was aware Wuyi was just joking, but after taking one look at Ling, he feared for the Demi-God’s life.

“Wuyi, if you don’t want to know what shrine keeper fricassee tastes like, then don’t ruin my mood right now,” the head dragon threatened.

“Hey, what did I do to have such disrespect first thing in the morning?”

“You talked.”

“I see how it is.”

“Let’s not fight this early please, I just finished my first chore of the morning,” Zan dissuaded the two, pulling away from the shifting dragon. “When you two are done bickering, feel free to come find me.”

As Zan walked away, Ling noticeably deflated, shifting back to full human form and shrinking down. Wuyi shot Ling a mischievous look.

“Cold weather in the morning always makes you a little drowsy when you wake up,” he stated. “You should soak in the hot spring if you’re trying to get warm.”

Ling grumbled, but at last sighed. “Perhaps…”

At least the shinshoku had the respect to turn around as the dragon removed his silk kimono and layers before dipping his body into the warm water up his chin. Neither spoke for a little bit, letting Ling soak in the warmth in peace.

“You’re actually quite lucky, Ling,” Wuyi stated, with no teasing tone in his voice. “That little rabbit loves you no matter what shape or form you’re in. There’s not many humans like him in this world who care about creatures like us unconditionally.”

A pair of fair skinned feet dipped into the hot spring not far from the dragon, followed by thin ankles and calves. Ling looked up at the black haired man, who was drawing in the nearby snow with his fingers.

“He was only a boy when we met, that night he had gotten lost in the woods and stumbled on our home.”

“And he didn’t run when he saw your true form, which was an accident on our part, but he looked more enchanted by you than terrified to be face to face with a dragon.”

As Wuyi retold the story Ling was already well aware of, the memory replayed in his mind, still clear and audible, almost as if it had happened just the day before.

_If the sky nor the lack of light hadn’t given it away, then the overbearing calls of the night time crickets sure gave the time of day away. Spring nights in the woodlands on the mountains seemed to always be busy for the native creatures, but this particular night was strangely quiet with only one oblivious cricket calling out. Perhaps, it was because all eyes were directed to a young child that clearly did not belong in this domain._

_The boy with short, white hair and rose-colored eyes, was clutching tightly on the bouquet of wildflowers in his little hands as he walked aimlessly through the dark. He had a look of fear on his face as he kept looking around and behind as if someone was watching him._

_To be fair, he wasn’t wrong, because in addition to the whole forest watching him, three human eyes of various colors were observing his every move. They stayed in the shadows of the woods, avoiding being seen completely as they watched this disturbance in their sanctuary. It could be disastrous if this boy actually found their home._

_Time seemed to speed up when the white-haired boy broke into a sprint and through the brush, seemingly, out of nowhere. The three eyes followed with surprise and shock as he was running in the one direction they didn’t want him going._

_The head dragon was soaking in the warm hot spring, slightly curled without worrying about being seen in his true form. His pearly scales glimmered under the lanterns’ light, and the dark, branch-like horns on his head were long and decorated with small lights. The long tail with the white tuft at the end moved back and forth languidly in time with his breathing._

_Ling raised his head when he heard the snap of twigs and little footsteps coming his way. He slowly rose from the water, putting his senses on high alert just in case it was danger. The last thing he expected was for a little boy with fair skin and white hair to jump out of the bushes, breathing heavily as if he had just outrun a lion. The head dragon debated in his head whether to quickly shift to human form or try to slip away before the child noticed, when pale green eyes spotted rose pink eyes._

_The boy didn’t scream, didn’t move, but nothing in his features gave out any sign of fear. If anything, his eyes were sparkling as he gazed at the majestic beast right in front of him. Ling didn’t move, worried that any movement on his part would break this trance over the child._

_The dragon flinched a little when the boy finally stepped forward, enchanted eyes never once leaving his face. This boy just kept surprising him with his lack of fear for facing a gigantic, mythical creature, and before he realized it the boy was trying to reach up to his head, holding the wildflowers he had picked in his other hand._

_To say Ling was astounded by the child’s lack of fear would have probably been an understatement. Nonetheless, it didn’t stop him from realizing he had begun to lower his head until he felt the white-haired boy feel his forehead. He could feel the boy’s breath against his scales, and he shivered a little as the boy gave the skin a gentle stroke. This child started tracing the grooves on his horns and he even giggled when he touched one of the little lights._

_The dragon felt his heart melt at the child’s innocent voice. Although he never detested humans, he actively avoided them in order to protect the others. However, this one, this young child… Ling couldn’t find it in him to avoid this one._

_Judging from his disheveled clothes and the several strands of hair sticking up at odd angles, the small child had been out all day. So if he’s still here in the middle of the night, then it’s likely the poor soul was lost. The thought of that immediately dampened Ling’s mood._

_He wanted to help._

  
  


“All of our effort to get the kid away was in vain, not that you minded,” Wuyi reminded with a teasing smile. His black wings with dark grey membranes had come out, grazing the snow-covered ground slightly. “It was as if he saw you as some sort of big, fluffy rabbit that he just wanted to cuddle the whole night.” 

Ling laughed.

“Nonsense,” he answered. “He told me long ago that it was because he was reading books about dragons at that age, and he believed they were real. But he was among the few to think we’re not hostile unless we’re threatened.”

“And you decided to give him a ride home on your back. Though to be honest, it was a real shock when years later he came back looking for work. Here of all places.”

Ling stared at the steaming waters in front of him and hummed in thought. A towel was handed out to him from the shrine keeper, which the dragon accepted without fuss. Wuyi made sure to look away as the leader stepped out of the hot spring.

“You’ve definitely been happier since Zan came to live here,” Wuyi pointed out with a smile.

“Whatever do you mean?” Ling knew what he meant, and yet, he curiously asked. He pulled on the many layers of his robes once more and fixed up the kimono.

“You smile more, and you’re not as sluggish as you used to be for being 4,000 years old.”

“Very funny.”

“I’m serious. Ask Xiang and Daiyu if you don’t believe me. He’s a good presence for you. ”

Ling scoffed jokingly, but took the demi-god’s words into consideration.

“Now that my bones are warm, I am going to pursue that little rabbit so we can start cooking,” Wuyi announced, stepping out of the spring himself. He tucked his feet into his slippers with a small cringe from the chilled shoes, bringing a chuckle out of Ling.

“Hurry along then, Daiyu doesn’t care to get her own materials,” the head dragon reminded with a teasing grin. The black-haired man gave a bemused groan before he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only new character is Zan!
> 
> Zitui Bun’s name, ‘Zan’, means ‘Providing support’ while his surname, ‘Shanxi’, is a reference to the Shanxi province where Zitui Bun was a traditional delicacy.
> 
> It has been over a month since the last chapter! Hope you all enjoy this chapter!
> 
> And please leave a comment! ;)


	21. Coffee Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LIST OF CHARACTERS:  
> Chocolate: Celestino "Cel" Joseph  
> Coffee: Caleb Bentz  
> Cassata: Cassiano "Cas" Palermo  
> Milkshake (Sound-chan's OC): Michael Poplawski  
> Whisky: Winsor Akua Vita-Daniel
> 
> MENTIONED:  
> Pizza: Pista Esposito-Lagana
> 
> At last the mysterious man has been revealed!

Celestino was growing tired of these last-minute shoots if he was to be honest with his makeup artist. What made it even more tiresome was they were always late at night, and they dragged on for hours. 

Sometimes, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was the right path to take and if he could have been as successful as he was now while still being able to be there for Brook more often. But there’s no point reminiscing over something that could no longer be changed. He was Tierra City’s rising model, with his looks, charm and ability to look good in _anything_ keeping him popular. (And anyone who looked at him would become instantly fixated with him.)

Curtain was called on the shoot at last, and the siren sighed in his head. He was free for the rest of the night… or more like, the rest of the _morning_ , because unless his phone was lying to him, it just turned six AM.

Groaning, the clearly irritated and very tired Celestino grabbed his stuff and left the studio as soon as humanly possible. He caught some coworkers looking at him with sympathy, but they didn’t say a word in fear of invoking his sleep-deprived anger. At this, the model barely cared what they thought about him, messed up hair, strained eyes and all, he didn’t cling onto his reputation as direly as other celebrities would.

The cold morning air hit his face as soon as he was out the door, and the streetlights were still lighting up the neighborhood with how dark it got this time of year. The walk back home was never more than 30 minutes, 20 if he ran, but a small part of him did not wish to wait that long before he passed out from exhaustion. He needed something to keep him awake. 

_‘Water… an energy drink… or…’_

Celestino stopped dead in his tracks when an illuminated sign came into his view.

‘ _...Or coffee.’_

He was standing in front of a café by the name of ‘Satan’s Coffee House.’ It was an odd name, but Celestino was not one to judge.

Stepping through the door, the rejuvenating scent of freshly brewed coffee washed over his sense of smell, rousing him enough to walk up to the counter. Relief and hunger soon followed, catching the scent of baking confectionery and roasting nuts. There’s no reason he couldn’t have a bite with his coffee, his stomach and brain agreed for once.

If his sense of smell wouldn’t keep him awake long enough to order, his sense of sight would make sure of it when he saw who came out from the back. A lean, blonde man with brown highlights and black spectacles hiding his eyes stepped out with the grace Celestino had only seen from his fellow models, dressed in a white button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows to show his unblemished arms. There was a blue scarf around his neck, patterned with brown ovals resembling coffee beans. He wore beige slacks with black suspenders that fitted nicely to his slim frame.

Celestino was having a hard time looking away, and as far as his instincts were aware of, this man was not a siren like Brook or himself. But damn, this stranger would fit right in just by how _hot_ he was.

Oh no, he noticed Celestino and if he kept staring, then he would look like a creep.

_‘Stay cool, you got this."_

“Good morning, tired sir,” the blonde greeted with a grin.

Celestino felt moments away from fainting, not because he was tired, but because this man’s vocal cords were an assault to his sense of hearing. The voice that escaped this man was smooth like milk and rich in baritone like dark chocolate. Celestino didn’t know how he would last.

The man behind the counter chuckled in his low voice, striking somewhere deep in the brunette’s heart.

“You must be really out of it if you’re just going to stare.”

“Ah, I-I’m so sorry!” Celestino quickly replied, mentally smacking himself to stay focused on why he came here. " _Play cool, Cel, PLAY. COOL.’_

“Yes… it has been a long night for me,” he continued. “Been at work for a shoot that should’ve only been an hour. It took _all night_. I only just got out.”

“Ah, a model. I thought someone with your looks would be in that sort of business.”

“Y-yes, but as you can see, it’s not all that it’s glamorized to be. Work hours are never punctual, the designers are never satisfied, cameramen are constantly barking, makeup becomes a disaster with the sweat from the lights and the artists always poking your face-”

“Woah, easy there,” the blonde interrupted. “Speak anymore like that and you’ll crash. I’ve seen people like you go off on a tangent like that, and they collapse at their table.”

“Oh, my apologies. We’ve only just met and I’m already bombarding you with my frustrations.”

“It’s no trouble. I’m used to this. But speaking of having just met, will you tell me your name for your order?”

“Um… Celestino Joseph, and I’ll have whatever is good for after an all-nighter. Throw in a baked treat of your choice, please.”

The spectacled man gave a hum and a nod.

“Nothing too strong or you’ll crash later, paired with something salty. I know just the thing for you, Mr. Joseph. Have a seat and I’ll get it ready.”

“Shouldn’t I pay first?”

“Not gonna bother with that while you’re on your last legs. It’ll be on me, as the owner.”

When the blonde man flashed a smile, Celestino swore his heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t a religious man, but by god, that was the smile of an angel.

With shaky legs, the siren sat down in one of the tall chairs against a bar table. He took a moment to take a few deep breaths to slow down his rapidly beating heart. Seriously, what had gotten into him? Sure, he had come face to face with maybe the most gorgeous human being on the face of the planet, but he was a siren for crying out loud! He should have more control over this!

The brunette was so busy closing his eyes to ease the oncoming headache, he hadn’t noticed he had his head on the table until a hand tapped his shoulder and he shot up into a straight sitting position. The melodious chuckle reached his ears and he turned to see the owner carrying a tray with a cup topped with whipped cream and paired with a muffin treat that had the sweet smell of banana and a salty undertone of peanut. Lithe fingers lifted the small plates from the tray and placed them in front of the model.

“My personal combination of a wake up meal, Caramello Americano with banana nut muffin. I added whipped cream because you could still use the extra sugar.”

“Thank you, Mr. Owner.” The blonde smiled warmly.

“Call me Caleb, Mr. Joseph.”

_‘Caleb, huh…?’_

“Then, feel free to call me Cel,” he offered. “E-Everyone calls me that...”

“Does that mean you’ll be coming by more often now, Cel?” Caleb asked in honesty. God, how was this sinfully beautiful man such an innocent child?

_‘Keep it cool, Cel, KEEP. IT. COOL.’_ He laughed.

“Perhaps, if I enjoy the coffee and treats, of course,” Cel answered in a teasing tone. The blonde blinked in surprise, and his cheeks gained a red hue. Then, he smiled again.

“Then I definitely hope you enjoy it.”

☕☕☕

He blamed his selfish desires for accepting the shady deal, leading Cassiano to where he was now; walking towards the nearest gas station barely past 6 AM to interrogate the strange man.

The redhead knew what he had just done, but texting that number to tell them he was in was going to be a mistake he would regret dearly later… But Cas was desperate… and he was willing to do anything for Pista.

That’s what he told himself when he approached the goggle-wearing brunette. The man in question was leaning against his motorcycle in the parking lot, staring at his phone.

_‘Why scroll through your phone out in the snow when you could just do it in the convenience store or something?’_ Cassiano wondered, staring at the man a little longer before making his presence known. The round glasses Cas remembered him wearing were nowhere to be found, and his eyes were a dull crimson filled with nothing but disinterest at the moment.

_‘Almost as if it was an entirely different person…’_

But Cas recognized those darker, colder eyes. After all, he’s seen him with this darker set over the more ominous red. Perhaps it was another reason why he agreed to this. Cas had a feeling there was something more than what he’s seeing. It was something that wouldn’t let him rest easily until he finally understood.

He sighed, watching as the cold wind carried his foggy breath away, and stepped closer. Before he even had the chance to say anything, the crunch of snow beneath his shoes alerted the red-eyed man of his presence.

“So… you were actually being serious,” the man said, with a what reminded the redhead of a disappointed look. Something about the way he talked now irked Cas. It sounded completely different from the tone he used not long ago, supporting a small theory Cas had formed some time ago.

“I didn’t have much of a choice,” Cas replied. “But now that we have an actual deal, may I actually ask some questions?”

He shrugged, as if unsure what to say.

“It’s the least I can do for you, I suppose.”

“Cool, then what’s your name?” Cas asked quizzically. “You already know me, so who are you?”

The man smirked. “That’s fair… The name’s Michael, Michael Poplawski, but I’m not the one who brought the deal up with you.”

_‘So my assumption was correct…’_

“So I’m guessing you have DID something?”

Michael’s lips were fixed into a firm line.

“Bold assumption… but…” He trailed off, looking away as if Cas’ stare was too scrutinous for him. “Yeah… Yeah I’ve been diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder.”

Now that Michael was actually confirming his suspicions, Cas couldn’t help but feel a little skeptical now, but he decided not to judge. He thought that it would explain the man’s odd behavior. Key word: _thought_. He’s no therapist so he didn’t know the specific details, but it explained enough.

“So then… who’s the one I’m dealing with?” Cas asked… only to flinch when a pair of _bright red eyes_ and a _sharp-toothed grin_ met his gaze.

_“That would be me~ Doctor Vita-Daniels, at your service~”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cel's got it bad for a certain blonde, lol
> 
> 1) Coffee’s name, ‘Caleb’, means “The Devoted One”. Coffee's last name is based on Melitta Bentz, the one who invented the coffee machine.
> 
> 2)Milkshake’s name, ‘Michael’, means ‘Who is like god’. His surname, ‘Poplawski’, is a reference to Steven Poplawski who made the electric blender.


	22. The Frog, the Bull, and the Cookie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LIST OF CHARACTERS:  
> Frog Cake (SCS's OC): Frederick Balfours  
> Steak: Stephen Salisbury  
> Gingerbread: Giana Windsor
> 
> MENTIONED:  
> Red Wine: Reza Winter Sette  
> Ice Cream Mochi (Sound-chan's OC): Fuyumi Hashimoto  
> Champagne: Charlemagne "Charles" Beaumont

Weekends were the perfect days to rest up from all the school work and listening to his roommate being a stick-in-the-mud. The best thing on the weekend for Frederick was visiting the local blacksmith on an errand at 10 in the morning. It was easy to carry many thin swords when he took the bike he had.

The greenette made it to the blacksmith shop that morning in record time. It was a one-story, stone-walled place with a tiled roof and a sign above the entrance with a longsword painted on it.

Frederick pulled his bike into the shop and dismounted before tucking his ride in the corner.

“Morning, Mr. Salisbury,” he called.

“In the back, Frederick,” a deep voice replied. The smell of soot, smoke and iron was in the air, curling around every metal trinket in the shop part of the building. By now, the smell was familiar, almost comforting from the number of times the teen had been here.

The boy made his way to the blacksmith’s workshop, finding the fit, lean and muscular owner at work with polishing a set of knives. His mahogany red hair was slicked back with sweat, and his work goggles were pulled up onto his forehead, revealing the soot around his exposed red eyes.

As the man pulled away from his work, Frederick instinctively grabbed the wet cloth nearby and tossed it to him. The smithy didn’t even need to look to easily catch it.

“Thanks,” the redhead said before wiping the soot off of his face. Once the black stuff was off, he smiled towards the teen.

“Glad to see you’re in a good mood this morning, Mr. Salisbury.”

“Always when you come for a visit. How many is it today?”

“Twelve, three for polishing, five for straightening, and four for guard repairs.” The man gave a tired groan.

“Dammit, can that bloodsucker tell those students of his to be more careful?” Frederick couldn’t help but suppress a nervous laugh at the irony of that comment, as the man before him didn’t how accurate he was. “This makes how many on his tab now?”

“Forty-two, sir. Mr. Sette is sending the payment to your account this afternoon.”

“He better,” the smithy said with irritation. “Just place them over on the workbench.” Frederick looked over to the clean table on the far side of the workshop, and he went over and placed the bag of foils on the wooden surface.

A glimmer caught his dark brown eyes, or more like light reflecting off a mirror was getting in his eyes. He looked to the side, and to his confusion, there was a compact mirror on the table. The mirror was in a gold-colored case with intricate, cloud-like patterns, and the back of the mirror had a depiction of a lotus flower on it. The bottom of the lotus had a light green stone.

“Oh, I was bored when I made that,” the redhead spoke up when he noticed the greenette eyeing the small mirror.

“This level of delicate work can’t be a product of simply being bored, Mr. Salisbury,” the boy stated. The blacksmith gave a chuckle.

“Okay, I may have also done it with a certain boy in mind. Think of it as a gift for being a respectful customer.”

“Are you sure I can just have it?” 

“If you want some prissy woman to take it and then break it in the next hour, be my guest to just leave it there.”

“No no.” Frederick carefully closed the compact mirror and picked it up. “It really is lovely. I would hate someone to break it or tarnish it. Thank you.” Unseen by the redhead, who had turned his back to continue polishing, the teen ran his pointer finger all around the circumference. The light green stone gave an unnatural glow for a second before fading.

The greenette jumped when he heard a loud knocking, nearly dropping the small mirror.

“That’s just Officer Giana, Frederick, you know that,” the redhead laughed.

“R-right.” He quickly pocketed the mirror into the back pocket of his jeans. A short woman walked into the back, pulling off her periwinkle and brown police hat as she smirked. Her eyes were large, but their color was a radiant yellow as if she could look into one’s soul.

“Someone is in a good mood this morning,” the long-hair braided blonde stated, looking at the redhead.

“Morning, Officer Windsor,” the teen greeted.

“Well, if it isn’t the best boy in the city. Thought you’d drop by today. The old fencing teacher finally paying?”

“Yes, and about time,” the blacksmith huffed, placing the polished knife in a cushioned case. “I don’t run a free business, and he knows that.”

“Funny, thought that grin on your face was from him finally asking you out,” the woman said, half jokingly however. Both the redhead and greenette sputtered in their dumbfoundedness.

“That scoundrel?! Have you lost it, Giana?! I can barely stand being in the same room with him for five seconds!”

“He’s literally all you talk about when I enter the room.”

“Only because you keep bringing up the bastard!”

“Children, Stephen,” Giana gestured to the teen still at the workbench.

“No offense, Officer Windsor, but I can’t see it myself,” Frederick admitted. “They always fight when they’re in the same vicinity.”

“As they say, the more they fight, the more they care.”

“So you’re saying the same for Frederick and Fuyumi,” the smithie stated. The boy in the room blew a raspberry at that reply.

“You think I care about that Ice Queen like _that_? Get real. The two of us can barely get through our homework without snapping at each other.”

Stephen laughed.

“I know that firsthand. First time I meet her, she’s all up in your rear over stuff she knew nothing about.”

“My point exactly.”

“For kids, maybe,” Giana stated. “For two tsundere like your caretaker and this guy, it’s affection in disguise.”

“I am not whatever you just called me,” the blacksmith said.

“That’s what they all say.”

“Anyway, the foils should be ready for pickup by the next fencing club meet,” the oldest in the room informed the greenette. “Be sure to tell that pale caretaker of yours that.”

“Will do. Anything else you want me to pass on?”

“Next time you see your roommate, tell her I said to come by to melt that icy exterior.” Frederick laughed.

“I’ll drag her here myself if I have to.” He waved to the two. “Have a good rest of your day, Mr. Salisbury, Officer Windsor.”

“Enjoy this calm day to its fullest, and stay safe,” the officer stated. With a nod, the boy left the back of the shop, and the two adults could hear the sound of the bike pedals getting farther.

“He’s a good kid, even after what happened to his parents.”

“I know I said I wouldn’t pry in the affairs of the police, but you’ve known the kid longer than I have,” Stephen stated as he started looking over the foils. “Mate’s mom was also in the police force, right?”

“Yeah, she was a headstrong woman, and one of our best detectives. Pair that with her lawyer husband, and criminals were quickly put away left and right.” Giana looked down at the dusty floor with a sad smile. “They always seemed to know who to look for. Just hand them a person’s profile and they’ve got their suspect. Not one person she arrested and he prosecuted were wrongly accused.”

The redhead looked over at the short woman, seeing her go tense and clench her fists.

“Then came their last case…” the blonde started. By the tremble in her voice, he inferred that she was trying not to choke up. “The incident from three years ago when hundreds of people disappeared. It wasn’t long into their investigation when they also vanished. After being missing for a year, their bodies were found. Autopsy showed they were tortured and died from lethal injections of unknown substances… and had been dead for half a year.”

Stephen noticed Giana bite her lip, and her large eyes were starting to water.

“And no one was allowed to investigate for an efficient amount of time to find enough evidence as to what happened. So many people died, from the experiments and the fire… And yet the police were only given so little access, not enough to get so much as an idea of a suspect. It’s frustrating and heartbreaking that all those people lost their lives, and we have no clues to point to the motive of why.”

“It’s the men in the seats, obviously,” the redhead replied. “Who else would have that kind of power to halt an investigation? They were looking for something that they don’t want the public knowing about.”

“But there’s no proof they had anything to do with it.”

“Not that it’s my place to suggest, but if you want to dig up the dirty, political details, I would strike up conversation with that principal of Frederick’s school.”

“Mr. Beaumont?”

“Indeed. He’s one of the more respectable politicians, and he cares a lot about the young generations at the school. Not to mention he’s got connections. If anyone in the high-ups is willing to share such information, it’d be him.”

“Are you sure about this? You know he’s got a bodyguard on him all the time.”

“Not exactly all the time,” Stephen stated with a singing tone on the tip of his tongue as he grinned. The short woman looked at him with intrigue and confusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gingerbread playing matchmaker? Well, someone has to do it!
> 
> 1)Steak's last name is a reference to the first recorded steak in 1897 which was named after James Salisbury, a doctor during the American Civil War, who recommended people eat hamburgers three times per day.  
> 2)Gingerbread’s first name means “God is Gracious”. Her last name was inspired by Queen Elizabeth I, who was born under the house of Windsor. The first documented instance of figure-shaped gingerbread biscuits was at the court of Elizabeth I of England. She had the gingerbread figures made and presented in the likeness of some of her important guests.
> 
> Please leave us comments! It keeps us motivated!


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